


Universe Slip

by moorehawke



Category: Doctor Who, Homestuck, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Second POV, UNIT vs SHIELD, but also the condesce vs everyone, helicarrier battles, writing improves over time i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moorehawke/pseuds/moorehawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Transferring mid-game from one universe to another is never a particularly good thing. Least of all when this new set of worlds has just as many monsters as the one you left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which none of the kids have any idea where they are.

==> Be Jade Harley.

You are now Jade Harley. And there are a lot of things that you don't know.

You have no idea how you ended up in this weird-as-hell forest, and you certainly don't know what planet it's on. You don't know where the rest of your friends are, or if they're alright. You have no clue how long you've been unconscious or why you're still lying on the ground.

But the biggest thing that you don't know is why there's a man dressed in ragged, dirty clothes currently pointing a gun at you.

You're not exactly scared; you're a SBurb player at god tier. If you wanted to you could disarm him in a whole bunch of different ways - zap yourself, him, or his gun ( _a neat pistol-grip sawed-off double-barrel, a bit beaten up but in good enough condition to shoot_ , your brain automatically notes) to the other side of this planet, shrink the bullets so they no longer fire, stop the momentum of a bullet coming at you... there isn't half as much danger in the situation as he thinks there is.

The man asks you a question, and it's only then that you realise there's a ringing in your ears. You shake your head to clear it. The man repeats his query, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Where are the rest of your little pals?"

Little pals? You don't understand. You shake your head at him to show this, and he grunts.

"Don't play dumb. There have been disappearances reported around here for months. Your kind always travel in packs."

You honestly have no clue what this man is talking about, and you're starting to become worried he's not quite right in the head. You speak.

"There's, um, no-one else here."

"Bullshit," the man begins to retaliate, but is cut off by another voice from across the clearing.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing?!"

It's another young man, taller, wearing similar clothing, but unarmed. He looks in dire need of a haircut. You smile and give him a little wave. _Always good to be friendly._

The man waves back at you, a bit awkwardly, before rounding on Dean. "What the hell, man? She's a kid! What do you think you're doing, pointing a gun at her?"

"She literally just materialised out of nowhere, Sammy. She's some kind of demon or witch- she's probably what we've been looking for!"

A rather unladylike snort escapes you. The taller one, Sammy, looks at you.

"What?" he asks.

"Your name is Sammy?"

"No, it's Sam," he says at the same time Dean answers, "It's short for Samantha." They look at each other, Sam indignantly and Dean with enough of a smirk on his face for you to tell that this topic is cause for a bit of a rivalry between them.

Dean rests his gun against his leg and takes his finger off of the trigger. You get up. They're tall - Dean's at least a head taller than you, Sam perhaps a head and a half. This annoys you - you hate being the shortest in any group - and your dog ears twitch.

Both brothers stare at you. "Aren't those things fake?" Dean asks. "How did you just move them?"

"They're not fake," you reply defensively. "They're mine."

And the gun's up again as Sam and Dean regard you with renewed suspicion. "What do you mean, they're yours?"

"I mean they're attached to my head. What did you think they were?"

"It's Halloween, doofus. We thought you were wearing a costume, like every other stinking kid in the country." Dean gets angry when he's scared.

These two are scared of you.

"So you aren't human. What are you, then? A witch? Spirit? Some kind of weird-ass reaper?"

You decide it's probably better if you don't tell them about your god tier powers just yet; they're jumpy enough as it is. "I'm just a kid," you say. 

"A kid with dog ears?" Sam challenges.

You grimace. This will probably be pretty hard to explain. But you aren't feeling any urge to leave. Something has caught your attention, but what is it?

Ah, of course.

Sam and Dean are human.

 

\--> Be John Egbert.

Your name is John Egbert and you have no idea what the hell is going on.

Granted. this isn't much of a change from the status quo. The difference today, however, is that now you don't even recognise what planet you're on. This is a situation you haven't encountered in years.

You're standing on some kind of rainbow bridge. The structures around you sort of remind you of Prospit, tinged in gold wherever you look. Spires reach towards the heavens and shine in the sun. The multicoloured path under your feet ripples with light, leading towards a bronze chamber the shape of a globe. But this is far too high-tech to be Prospit, and besides, your old dream planet is long dead.

It's cold. You pull your hood up and let a sense of mock righteousness come over you as you walk towards a huge palace situated in the centre of the huge city.

Someone around here should be able to tell you how to get back to Skaia.

Right?

 

==> Be Rose Lalonde.

You are Rose Lalonde, and right now you are so hungry beyond belief.

You woke up this morning in the centre of Hyde park with no idea of your location. A few questions asked of the local residents (all of whom had regarded you with suspicion, presumably due to your brightly-coloured god tier pyjamas) had revealed that you were in London, England.

Earth. You'd assumed this was some kind of crazy dream bubble, and moved on. From that point, you'd wandered rather aimlessly through the city for several hours, becoming increasingly hungry. You didn't have any money on you, and you couldn't remember the last time you'd eaten.

You were tired, too. A nap had started to sound really good.

And just now, you are sitting, leaning against a railing by the side of a road and half asleep. A taxi pulls up in front of you and two men get out.

The first exits the car with all the dramatic flare of a stage performer, his dark grey coat billowing out behind him as he moves quickly towards the door of the house behind the railing. The second man gets out of the taxi with considerably less drama, and is halfway to the door when he notices you.

"Excuse me, are you all right?"

"Leave her, John, she's not a client."

"Shut up, Sherlock." The man crouches down beside you. "Are you okay?"

"Mm? Yeah, I'm-I'm fine," you mutter, still practically dozing. Why are there two figures in front of you, but only one voice?

"Dry skin and hair, unfocused eyes, tiredness - no, you're not, you're malnourished, and you're coming with me. Up you get," he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. He's about the same height as you, perhaps a little shorter, but definitely not by much. He has blond hair, though not nearly as pale as yours, and as he walks you into the house and past the complaining figure of the other man, you notice that he has a very subtle limp.

The other man, the dramatic one, follows behind, now without complaining, though you can still hear that his footsteps are rather heavy.

He's throwing a tantrum, you think.

You're shown into a living room. Or at least you would call it a living room if it weren't so incredibly messy. Nothing could actually live here - the chaos is unbelievable. The blond man - John, you now remember he was called - picks a pile of newspapers off of a sofa and gestures for you to sit down, which you do gratefully.

"Tea?" John asks. You nod, and he makes his way towards another room equipped with a kettle. You assume that it must be a kitchen. It kind of looks like a kitchen. The mess there seems to be mostly food-related, anyway.

The dramatic one - Sherlock, you recall - glares at you. "That's my seat," he practically snarls.

"Sherlock," John calls out benignly, "be nice. She needs food and rest."

"She looks odd."

You shift in your seat and glare back. "This is my god tier outfit." You reply as haughtily as you can. "It marks me out as a Seer of Light, and therefore signifies that I am far more powerful than you, a proper player in this game. I bet you've never even made it up the first rung of the echeladder - but then, why would you need to? You're just a dream bubble anomaly."

You sit back, pleased with the insults you've just shot at this Sherlock. Or at least you would be pleased if he wasn't sniggering at you like a complete and utter jerk. "She's delirious." He says. "Maybe we should get her to a hospital."

"There's nothing they can do for her there that I can't do here," John replies as he makes his way back to where you're sitting with three mugs of tea and a small plate of biscuits. He passes the mug over to you and you take a sip. It's sweeter than anything you've tasted in a long while - always hard to find sugar in Paradox Space. You drink another mouthful.

Suddenly reminded of your hunger, you grab a biscuit and bite into it, devouring it in seconds. As you reach for another, John moves to stop you. "Slow it down," he says. "You've had a long day, by the looks of it."

"You have no idea," you say, before promptly losing consciousness. Your last thought before collapsing back into your chair is that you really shouldn't be passing out like this. It's very undignified, not to mention dangerous.

 

==> Be Dave Strider

You are now Dave Strider. Why would you be anybody else?

You're a little sketchy on the details of how you got onto this spaceship, but one thing you do know is that now that you're here, it seems like a pretty good place to take a nap.

You fall to the ground, unconscious, and don't see the man in the leather jacket and the blonde girl when they enter the room only a few seconds later.

In fact, you don't see much of anything for the next few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A conglomeration of what previously made up chapters 1, 2, and 3! I've also gone through and cleaned up some awkward sentence structures, and I'm renaming the chapters as well.  
> To those who are new to this fic, a big welcome to you, and apologies if the chapter lengths look a bit weird - I'm in the middle of fixing that now.  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	2. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose is slightly less hungry, Jade is slightly less hungry, and Dave meets the Doctor and Rose Tyler.

==> Be Rose again

You are now Rose again, and a good thing too. Being anyone else would probably be rather boring compared to what's going on around you, right now.

For starters, you've only just woken up. There's very little light coming in through the windows - it must be night. You're still on the same sofa, but now there's a blanket over you and a pillow supporting your head. _That John person is quite considerate,_  you think.

Secondly, you're still hungry as hell. There's a sandwich on the table next to you and it's starting to look like heaven in edible form.

Thirdly, there is a man firing a gun at the wall to your right.

It's the man from before, the dramatic one, Sherlock, and he's holding a flintlock pistol in his hand and aiming it at a smiley face spray-painted in yellow on the wall in front of him. He fires again, and you wince, the sound rattling in your head and turning your skull into a makeshift pinball machine.

"Can you please stop?" You ask indignantly. "That's really loud."

Sherlock looks at you and yells over his shoulder, "John! She's awake!" before pulling the trigger three more times in quick succession.

You scowl. This guy is nothing more than a melodramatic crybaby of a dream bubble simulation, but boy does he get on your nerves.

John enters the room a second later and walks over to you. "Sherlock, shut up for a minute," he says, and Sherlock ceases mid-shot, his finger on the trigger, and puts the gun on the table. John focuses back on you, grabbing your wrist and checking your pulse. "You're up. That's good," he comments, "though your pulse is still a bit weak. Still hungry?" You nod, and he holds out the sandwich to you. "Eat up."

You gulp down the sandwich in under a minute, feeling considerably better once you do. It's chicken and lettuce, something you haven't eaten in years. Your strength now mostly returned, you get up from your chair.

Your god tier pyjamas are somehow completely clean and pressed. You have no idea how they do that. You feel pretty clean too.

Sherlock is still scowling. You scowl back. "Well, now that you're up, you can leave," he says, moving to shove you out the door.

"Hold on, Sherlock!" John stops him before asking you, "Do you have somewhere you can go?"

You shake your head. "No," you say, "but I'll figure something out, it's fine. Thanks for everything -"

"No way, you're not going back out onto the streets at night if you don't have some end destination in mind."

"It's all right, I just need to find my way out of the dream bubble and I'll be fine."

John pauses. "Um, dream bubble?"

"Yeah. Dream bubble. That's where we are. That's where we have to be. I'm in a dream bubble and sooner or later I'm going to wake up, but in the mean time I have to find my friends. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"We're not in any sort of 'dream bubble'."

"Pardon?"

"We're in London. London, England, Earth. I think you're still a bit delirious."

"No, I'm not," you insist, "you just can't remember where you are. Earth is gone. This can't be Earth." Sherlock is looking at you now too, and you're starting to feel annoyed. You take your knitting needles from your strife specibus and move to march out the door, ready to pull some kind of semi-violent magic on them if they keep trying to stop you.

You hear the words 'what the hell?' as a hand grabs your shoulder. You blast them and run.

 

==> Be Jade Harley

You are once again Jade Harley, which is kind of annoying because Rose's story was just about the get interesting. I, however, as the author, don't want to post that bit yet, and so for the minute you are Jade, and you're just going to have to deal with it.

You're still in the woods with these two men, Sam and Dean. They're still pointing a gun at you, and you're still fascinated by the fact that they are 100% bona fide homo sapiens. Not trolls or carapaces or cherubs - _humans._  Of course, you still have a lot of explaining to do if you're going to be able to get to the point where all of you actually understand what's going on.

They mentioned Halloween - so it must be at least a few months since you started Sburb. But there's no sign of any apocalyptic goings-on anywhere near here - the earth is still turning, the sky is still above your head and obviously the human race is carrying on as it always does.

"Can you put the gun down, please?" You ask Dean as politely as you can. He hesitates, but then rests the weapon on the ground. It doesn't matter too much - you're pretty sure he's got several knives inside his jacket, and Sam has a pistol at his belt - but at least now he'll be listening to you rather than getting ready to fire a bullet at your brain.

"So are you going to tell us what you are?" Sam asks.

"Of course," you reply, "but you're going to have to promise not to shoot at me. I've got questions I still need to ask you."

"Your questions?"

"Yeah. I've got plenty of them."

"Okay... we're starting with you." Sam gestures towards you. "Explain?"

You seriously do not want to end up talking for the next four hours. Time for a demonstration, you guess. You reach your hand into a pocket in your robes and pull out a tiny sphere - Prospit's moon, or what's left of it, borrowed from another Jade in a weird dream bubble only the other day. You hold it in your palm and gesture for the brothers to come closer and see. They're both really tense. Not surprising. You're an omnipotent dog-girl in weird black and grey robes who is currently standing in front of them with a possibly dangerous object in her hand. Most people actually would have turned tail and run by now.

Dean takes a step forward. "What the hell is that?" He asks in his gravelly voice. You think that if he continues talking like that for the rest of his life he'll have torn up his throat by the time he retires.

"It's a planet."

"A planet." Sam sounds incredibly sarcastic, and your ears twitch.

"Yep. It's Prospit's moon, my dream planet. I borrowed it off an incarnation of me from a doomed timeline. Watch," you grow it so it's now about as big as a netball. Its two towers, where your and John's dream selves once lived, jut out from the sphere like lightning conductors. You shrink the ball back down to size again and leave it floating just above your hand, gauging the reactions of the two men.

Sam speaks first. "So, you're a spirit?"

"No," you explain, "I'm a player of a game called Sburb. I think this might be a different universe to the one I'm from."

"And this game, Sburb... it gave you superpowers?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"...okay." Dean brought his hand to his forehead. "This makes no sense."

"I'm not explaining it very well, am I?"

"Not really, no." Sam spoke up. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning."

"That would take hours."

"Can you shorten it?"

"Yeah, I guess, but then it wouldn't make any sense..."

"Look, we don't have time for this." Dean's gun is back in his hand. "Sammy, we have a corpse to find." This most definitely catches you off guard. The words corpse party run through your head, and you dismiss them.

"Um, yeah," Sam says to you by way of explanation, "we kind of need to burn this grave before sunrise."

"Oh. Okay."

"And you're coming with us," Dean says, "until we've heard this story of yours."

 

==> Be Dave Strider

Being Dave Strider is definitely the wisest move to make at the moment. Honestly, you don't know why anyone would ever make any other move but this.

You're lying in a bed in an unfamiliar room. The walls, somehow, look simultaneously metallic and organic. The air is cold, but you're curled up under a puffy duvet sort of thing. You like it. It's warm.

You're about to get up and have a look around when a door to your left opens and two people walk in.

"Oh good, you're awake," a voice says. You sit up to see a man in a leather jacket and a blonde girl in a pink jumper.

"Um... yeah." You reply before mentally kicking yourself. _Unconsciousness is no excuse for a loss of cool,_  you hear your bro scolding you.  _Get back on the bandwagon._

Thinking of your bro reminds you of your shades, and you hand moves to your face, but there are no frames covering your eyes. "Where the fuck are my shades?" You ask, panicked. No, wait, not panicked. A Strider is never panicked. You've just... given a slight hint of emotion, that's all.

Only the slightest of hints.

The girl in the pink jacket has them in her hand, and passes them to you. You put them on and feel that little bit better now that you're seeing the world through tinted glass.

"Interesting eyes you've got there." The man says. He's got a weird accent. It sounds like some sort of British, but different, like a Texas accent versus a Manhattan one. Same country, different area. "Albino?"

"Yup." You swing your legs over the side of the bed and hop to your feet, noting that you're actually taller than both of these two.

Your god tier pyjamas aren't rumpled despite you having slept in them. You appreciate that about them. Whoever designed these threads evidently wove a bottle of pine-o-clean into the fabric.

"Where am I?" you ask.

"My spaceship. I think a more important question though is _how_ you got here."

The man pulls a device from his pocket and buzzes it at you. "Your timeline is all over the place. It's like someone's been tying knots in it! What the hell have you been doing?"

You shrug. "Time skipping, mostly. Generating doomed timelines. Lots of dead versions of me." The man raises his eyebrows as he continues to study the device.

"Well, it certainly looks like it. Unprofessional temporal slips, sloppy time seals - you've been making this up as you go along, haven't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much. It's kinda hard to learn while dodging imps, trolls and anthropomorphic dogs, you know?"

"Imps and trolls?" The girl in the pink jacket speaks up, in what's definitely a London accent. "What do you mean?"

"Other species, probably," the man responds before you can open your mouth, "but that's still beside the point. Evidently you," he points at you, "have been messing around with basic Vortex tech - really old stuff if it's creating alternate timeline versions of you - but that's not nearly enough of a reason for you to end up here. Where were you? What planet? Any idea how you got transported to my ship?"

You set your mind back. "I was on LOFAF. There was a huge fight going down. I remember chasing after those two anthro dogs, but that's it."

"...okay... but where is 'LOFAF'?" he asks. "What system? Galaxy? Do you have coordinates?"

You think for a minute. "I don't know," you finally answer, "it was in the game. Space is pretty warped there."

 

"Wait, the game?" Leather-jacket takes a long look at the Time symbol on your shirt, and then meets your eyes with a mix of awe and horror. You're not sure if you should be flattered or scared.

"You're a Sburb player?" He asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the kudos and the comments - it's really nice to see people supporting this chaos that is my creative writing!  
> I've got a heap more chapters written and ready to go, so I have a stockpile in case of unforeseen writer's block. Even if I were to stop writing now, I reckon I could keep posting for a week or so, probably more. Good thing too - I have exams coming up in a couple of weeks, so a heads up that the update rate will probably slow down soon.  
> That reminds me; (spoilers, sort of, i guess) does anyone know how a typical police forensic team operates? What do they do? how do they do it? how long does it usually take? I'll admit, I'm not very well versed in this sort of thing. If anyone knows anything that can help me make the story more authentic that would be really useful.  
> As always, any kudos, reviews or tips are always welcome. Thanks for reading!  
> \- mysticalArchitect
> 
> EDIT: this is now a combination of what was chapters 4, 5, and 6!


	3. Travelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Odin has a god complex and Jade is subjected to the horrors of classic rock.

==> Be John Egbert

You are now John Egbert. Which means you are wandering through a metallic city, totally lost, and slowly attracting the attention of the locals. You probably should have stopped to ask for directions by now, but most of them are carrying rather deadly-looking weapons and you're not in the mood for a fight if they turn out to be hostile.

You try to check Pesterchum and see if your friends are nearby, but you seem to be offline. This is the first time this has happened to you since the game started.

Could you be in another session?

You hope not. The first two were enough.

You amble your way up to the main castle, entering the doors and looking around. It's quieter in here. The castle seems official, important. Perhaps someone here might be able to tell you where you are.

You continue on. After walking for a good few minutes, you reach a large, rather official-looking door. It's at least three times as tall as you are, and seems to be decorated with gold, or at least gold paint, meticulously etched in spiralling knot designs around the hinges.

You wonder if it's alright to just open it, or if you should leave it alone. You don't want to raise any alarms.

You raise your hand to the door, and knock once. After a brief pause, the door cracks open.

The man in front of you is tall and has the build of an athlete, with broad shoulders and defined muscles on his arms. His face is open and looks like it does a lot of smiling, or possibly squinting, lines bunched around the ends of his eyes. He's wearing some kind of armour, and a red cape hangs from his shoulders. You're reminded of Dave.

The voice of an elderly man echoes its way to your ears from behind the stranger. "Who is it?" Red Cape looks at you and jerks his head back to signal that you should enter. He steps aside to let you in, announcing your presence to whoever else is in the room beyond.

"It appears to be a mortal."

_If you're mortal, what does that make him?_

You enter the room to see a man probably in his sixties or seventies. He's sitting on a large throne, and in his hand he holds a staff of some kind. His white hair is interrupted by a leather strap that holds an eyepatch in place over his right eye. He has an air of someone with a god complex. You've seen enough to know.

"Who are you?" he asks, as if speaking to a child, or perhaps an ant. Definitely a god complex.

"Uh, my name's John Egbert," you reply, "and I'm looking for my friends. Can you tell me what planet this is?"

"This is Asgard," he replies. "Home of the Aesir."

"Can you direct me to the Land of Wind and Shade?"

There's a pause. "There is no place in our world that bears that name." Red Cape tells you. "Is it within another realm?"

"I have no idea what the realms are. Can you explain?"

 

==> Be Jade Harley

If you want to _be_  Jade Harley, you must first _think_  like Jade Harley.

And that means that at this point in time, you are thinking that although it's cool to be back on Earth, and you're enjoying not being constantly attacked by cherubs and carapaces and anthropomorphic dogs, this is really weird.

You are also thinking that the claim that demons and ghosts exist either qualifies these guys as insane, traumatised somehow, or just really observant.

Or all three.

A final thing you're thinking is that there's something really odd about this whole new-universe thing, because your Green Sun powers are definitely still working, and you're going to need to look into that.

Now that you've  _thought_ like Jade, you can _be_  Jade.

You're sitting in the back of a 1967 Chevy Impala, unwillingly listening to rock music blaring from the speakers. In front of you are Sam, Dean, and a stretch of inky black road that you're told will lead to a local graveyard in about five minutes.

Before you left, Sam and Dean tested holy water, salt, and even an iron knife on you to double-check you weren't a demon. You shocked them a bit when the cut from the knife healed within minutes, but it was still enough proof that you weren't "evil" (their words, not yours) for them to let you in the car.

You're on your way to burn a dead body. Not that desecration of the deceased has ever bothered you too much before (you're pretty sure your own original body is still lying, unburied and probably really gross, on your God Tier bed), but you're not quite sure what to make of this situation. It seems a little dark and spooky.

Dean twists his head back to look at you, causing no small amount of worry for the safety of the car, and says, "we're a minute or so off. You can come into the graveyard if you want, but don't get in the way and don't run off unless you want a bullet in your leg. I'm still not past the whole dog-ears thing."

You nod. Of course you won't run off - you're not an idiot. Among other things, you want to know what the hell is really going on, and two demon-hunters might give you some interesting insight into how this place seemingly avoided Sburb. That raises a good point - if this is a world without Sburb, does that mean there's a thirteen-year-old version of you running around somewhere? Honestly, that would be pretty amazing. In a creepy kind of way. Would you be able to meet her? Or would she end up like one of those parallel universe Daves, doomed to a quick demise? Is it possible that you could end up that way? In this situation, you sort of are the parallel universe you. Perhaps you yourself are doomed.

Before you can dwell on this rather grim thought for too long, you're shifted back into the present moment as the car pulls over on the side of the road. The headlights are illuminating an iron gate just ahead - it must be the entry to the graveyard.

Dead things. Brilliant. Like you haven't had enough of semi-animate corpses from your own childhood.

 

==> Be John Egbert.

Aaaaaand you're John.

"The realms connect through series of dark energy bonds, in a formation we call Yggdrasil," Red Cape, now named Thor, explains. "We are here," he points to a circle on the map outlined in gold, "and surrounding us are Jotunhiemr, Nilfhiemr, Svartalfhiemr and Midgard, or Earth. If you are a mortal, as it so seems, then this would be your home."

"Earth?" You ask. Thor nods. The circle that shows your possible home is edged in a blue-green pattern of dots. "Definitely Earth? Not New Earth or Earth Mark Two?"

"Just Earth."

It looks like this is another universe. Just your luck.

"I think I need to get to Earth." You say. "If it exists here, then chances are that's where I'll find my friends. Is there any transport?"

"Of course," Thor replies, "and you can leave immediately if you wish. I have friends in that realm that would be happy to help you."

"Thank you."

Getting to Earth will be interesting, to say the least. You wonder how different it will be from the planet you know. Earth in a post-scratch post-scratch universe is definitely a few steps away from what you're used to.

Then again, you're not really used to any Earth at all.

It only takes a few minutes to leave the castle - Thor leads you through the identical halls like each one is signposted - and soon you're on the rainbow bridge again. There's a structure that you hadn't noticed before, a spherical building at the end of the bridge.

You follow Thor inside to find a man with dark chocolate skin and a weird horned helmet that reminds you vaguely of Sollux. His hands are resting on a large sword imbedded in the floor of a slightly raised podium. His eyes sort of glow. You can see them under the helmet.

"You are no mortal." He says when he you approach. "What business have you here?"

"Um, I'm kind of lost?" you respond awkwardly. 

He smiles a bit. "True," he says. "As are two others like you; both on Midgard, though I can't be certain where. I wish you luck in finding them." He looks to Thor. "Be aware that this boy is not from our realms; before today I could not see him. I expect he has some glorious stories to tell." 

Thor looks interested and you get the feeling that he'll definitely ask you more soon.  _Great._

Hiemdall lifts the sword in his hand a few inches, letting it clang back down into the podium; the room, as a result, begins to move as a portal opens in the wall to your right.

Thor walks towards it, and you follow, lingering just enough to hear Hiemdall's parting words before you step through.

"Good luck, John Egbert."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're slow to update your fanfic clap your hands  
> *clap clap*  
> Sorry guys, it's exam week. You know how it is.  
> Must... Resist... The urge to draw on exam papers...  
> I failed to resist the urge in Latin and French so there's a giant Terezi Pyrope on the back of my Latin paper and some depth perception practise sketches of the Warhammer of Zillyhoo on page 5 of the French exam.  
> I regret nothing.  
> \- mysticalArchitect
> 
> EDIT: This is a combination of chapters 7, 8, and 9, and BOY did I have a lot of editing to do here. To those who are new, congratulations! you get the new-improved-and-way-more-in-character version.


	4. Analyses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock and John are kicked out, the Doctor rants, and two two brilliant scientists meet each other while managing not to discuss that much technical science.

==> Jade Harley: Skip a week or two.

You are Jade Harley, exactly eleven days after you first materialised before the Winchester brothers. You've been helping them on hunts for about a week now, and aside from a couple of slip-ups (including going out at night to sate a craving for chips only to return to two guns pointed at your forehead), you've pretty much earned their trust. You've told them about Sburb (at least somewhat - it's actually really hard to explain), and they're okay with your powers (the full extent of which you showed them after your second, teleporting out of danger after almost getting stabbed), although they still get a bit edgy whenever you teleport, and you've heard Dean muttering something that sounded like 'Cas' whenever you appear too close.

You're still getting your head around the whole idea that this universe has ghosts and demons and hellhounds, but it's a pretty difficult fact to dispute when you've seen them in person, so you're just going with it.

You've made a request for the two brothers to come with you to the highest point of authority you can find - the plan is that if your friends are around, eventually they'll stir up enough trouble to do the same - and after about a week of travel (peppered with continuous side-trips; who knew America had so many ghosts?), you've finally arrived in New York. It looks like these guys also have real life superheroes here, so you're off to check in at the Avengers Tower to see if the biggest experts in alien tech on Earth can help you get back to your session.

Sam and Dean wanted you to change into 'normal' clothes for this, but you like your robes. They're still clean, as per usual, and you'd rather keep them on than run the risk of leaving them in a motel somewhere. "This is the place?" you ask, as the Impala pulls up outside the entrance to a building that simply says 'STARK' above the door.

"Yeah. They've just finished repairing it after these freaky portal-alien things a year or two ago." Dean twists around in his seat. "You still good with what we're doing?" You nod. "Right then," he pulls the handbrake and twists the keys, placing them in his jacket, "let's go." The three of you hop out of the car, Dean triple checking for tow signs anywhere nearby, before heading up the stairs and into the building.

Inside it's cool and sleek - a lot of metal, glass, and marble. A woman in a crisp suit, her blonde hair scraped back into a tight ponytail, is sitting at some sort of welcome desk. You walk over and give her a smile. "I'd like to see Mr. Stark, please," you say. "I have something that will interest him, as well as a request for help."

The woman appraises you doubtfully. "No one speaks to Mr. Stark without going through protocols," she begins, but you cut her off by pulling your still-miniaturised Prospit out of your pocket and stretching it to the size of her head.

She picks up the phone. "Mr. Stark, there's someone here to see you."

* * *

 

Mr. Stark is scruffy-looking, but with an air of odd professionalism that simultaneously works to intimidate and create an idea of familiarity. When you walk into the room, Sam and Dean only a step behind, he gets up. "I don't know you," he says, almost accusingly, as if blaming them for this gap in his worldview. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to ask for your help," you reply, "and in return, I think I have something you'd be interested in."

"Oh?"

"You're some kind of expert in alien tech, right?"

"Alien, sorta, but tech, definitely yes."

"Good, because I need you to help me do some research. I'm not entirely sure where I came from, but I do know it wasn't exactly this universe, and I need to get back to where I was. If my friends are here too, then so do they. I'm hoping you could help us with that."

"So you're telling me you teleported here from another dimension?" he asks sarcastically. "Prove it. Got any tech from there, by chance?"

"Well, no, but I still have this." Prospit's moon makes another appearance. (You really need a new way of showing off your powers.) You stretch it and shrink it again before tossing it over to him. He catches it and squints at the tiny spires on its surface.

"What is this?"

"It's a planet - well, actually it's a moon."

"... Okay, I'm interested." He leans forward, hand resting on the desk for support. "Tell me more."

 

==> Be Sherlock Holmes.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of this story, you cannot actually be Sherlock Holmes.

You can, however, observe him.

He himself is observing a scorch mark on the wall of 221B Baker Street, created only an hour or so before by the girl John had insisted on feeding, for some bizarre reason. The beam had narrowly missed his head as it flew past, and looking at the results of a direct hit now, he's grateful. The wall is blackened, with parts of the plaster missing, having seemingly been burnt up. The bricks behind have been pushed back slightly, as if they've been rammed with something extremely heavy.

He's trying to think of a logical explanation for this sort of blast, especially considering how concentrated it was, and how it seemed to come from a pair of _knitting needles_ , of all things, but his mind keeps drawing blanks.

John thumps his way down the stairs and walks into the living room. "Lestrade's on his way," he says, "but he's bringing forensics."

Sherlock groans. Forensics means a lot of people in the house, poking around in his stuff. Forensics means he has to clean up, and quickly.

Stacking several piles of books in the corner of the room, he manages to at least clear the table, but when it comes to clean they're far from done; rings left by cups of tea, scratches, dents, and a myriad of assorted breadcrumbs dot the run-down piece of furniture. He leaves John to finish the job and moves on to the kitchen, stacking bowls inside each other, tipping a small vial of acid into the sink, and quickly pulling a jar of fingernails out of the oven and stuffing it in the fridge.

Improved. Definitely not tidy, but improved to the point that he could see the kitchen bench and the preserved human anatomy is mostly out of sight. In Sherlock's mind, this is a success.

A sharp, decisive rap on the door alerts the inhabitants of 221B to the arrival of Lestrade's team and has Mrs Hudson bustling her way to the front to let the new guests in. Another quick scan ensures Sherlock that most of the incriminating science is out of sight, so he returns to the living room in time to see forensics and co. enter.

"We'll set up over here." The nasally voice of Anderson signals his appearance in the room as he pushes his way past the other figures and towards the (still only partially cleared) kitchen table. Shoving several bowls off the table and triggering an indignant shout of 'Hey! Be careful with those!' from John, he sets down what looks to be an extremely large briefcase.

Lestrade follows him and moves towards John. "We're going to need you out of the house for a bit," Sherlock hears him say. "We'll need to analyse the chemical nature of the scorch marks to see what created the blast." Fine. You can go to the morgue, see what Molly's doing. Assuring that John has replied in the affirmative, Sherlock exits the house, leaving Lestrade and his crazy police pals to their work.

He just hopes they don't open the kitchen cupboards.

 

==> Be Dave Strider

"The universe isn't an immortal construct - after a while it decays and dies like anything else; but instead of leaving a dead end, it has an inbuilt program that sacrifices a single planet to make a few billion new offshoot universes. As a sort of thank you gift, the survivors end up in their new universes once they've won the game, but only if they make it through the trials. Most of them end up dead in the process of reaching their goals, and just drift around in ghost bodies in these sort of offshoot universe dimensions."

Commentary and explanations like this have been thrown around for the last hour or so as the Doctor (that seems to be his name, or at least as much of it as he'll tell you) scanned your brain, your heart, and even your cape. You've been giving brief specifications of your session, but it doesn't really seem like he's satisfied; he keeps asking for more detail, examples, names and times.

You've ended up in the Console Room, which honestly looks more like the inside of some fucked up tree than the time machine you've been told it is. Your turntables are still in your sylladex, however, and you have to admit they look pretty shitty compared to this setup.

Eventually you manage to break through the shitstorm of speech to ask a question of your own. "Any way you can look for my friends on this thing?" You gesture towards the complicated-looking console in the centre of the room.

The Doctor finally shuts up for a second, but the pause doesn't last long enough for you to comment because he quickly replies.

"Of course I can. Let me finish scanning your timelines, and I can search for links." He buzzes you one more time before reading some sort of code off the side of his blue scanner-thingy. Evidently the string of numbers makes sense, because he starts inputting them onto the coral-like structure of the ship. A few minutes later, a shuddering starts up as a sound that definitely can't signal healthy operation echoes through the room.

The girl in the pink jacket (Rose, you think) looks at you with an expression that clearly says 'just go with it'.

So you do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mix (and slight rearrangement) of chapters 10, 11, and 12. Hope you all enjoy!  
> As always, kudos and comments are very much welcome.  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	5. In which Rose decides to do what Rose does best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That being 'to blow stuff up dramatically'.  
> It's all a very important part of the plan, of course.

==> Rose Lalonde: get into trouble, fast.

Whatever this dream bubble/parallel universe situation is doing, you don't seem to be able to escape it. You've tried self-inducing heavy REM-state sleep (nothing but a bunch of really weird dreams), using the Thorns of Oglogoth as compass pointers to direct you towards the Furthest Ring (they just spun in circles), and rebooting Pesterchum no less than seventeen times, all to no avail.

Only one thing left to do.

Your new plan involves a lot of shouting, some explosions, and an arrest warrant. It's ten thirty in the morning, and you're standing in the middle of Times Square, knitting needles in hand. A huge electronic billboard, advertising Betty Crocker for some reason, is to your right, and you stand facing a large metal statue.

Calmly, you raise your hand, and blast it to pieces.

You allow the generic black magic 'fire' to flow around you, hoping to cause more of a scene, and rise a few feet into the air for both attention and dramatic effect. The crowds that minutes ago had been going about their business have now dissolved into complete chaos, with people screaming at the top of their lungs left, right, and centre. You're careful not to let any of the pieces of the statue fall on them, instead floating them gently to the ground around the stone pedestal, but this does nothing to ease the panic.

It's ten minutes or so before special forces arrive in about a dozen black vans. The word UNIT is emblazoned on the sides in bright yellow lettering.

A woman around you mother's age steps out of one of the vans, megaphone in hand, and speaks in a calm voice. "Miss, if you do not return to the ground in the next ten seconds, my officers will be forced to shoot."

Surprisingly polite. You oblige, but keep the black fire. You like it. "Do you want me to fix the statue?" You call over to her. She seems a bit taken aback.

"Um, yes please, if that's at all possible."

You raise your wand again and rearrange the torn metal into its original place, fusing it into position. When you're done, it looks like it was never broken.

"I suppose I'm to be taken into custody now?" You yell.

"Yes, that's usually the procedure."

"Okay. I won't resist."

"Is the black fire dangerous?" Another girl, younger, steps out of the van, a striped scarf wound around her neck.

"No. I just like the dramatic effect." You die the fire down and walk over to them, a smile spread across your face as you make a request you've often wished to have an opportunity for. "Okay. Take me to your leader."

The thing you like best about this situation, you think, is definitely the faces of the fifty UNIT officers who were expecting a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a piece of shit. It's decided. There's no going back.  
> Why am I a piece of shit, you ask? Well the reason is thus; although I haven't posted anything for several months, I actually have a 30-page fanfic up and ready to share with you guys, and have had this much material for at least a month and a half.  
> Thing is, I am INCREDIBLY paranoid about running out of material to post. Paranoid, it seems, to the point that I'm actually causing the problem I was trying to avoid. A combination of rowing, schoolfriend reunions, hospital visits and gluten-free ice-cream has served as the perfect distraction from Universe Slip, and for that, I apologise.  
> Even more so because I seem to have withheld my favourite chapter from you this whole time. I hope you enjoyed it, because it was one hell of a lot of fun to write.  
> As always, feel free to kudos, bookmark, or comment!  
> \- mysticalArchitect
> 
> A NOTE: to those reading through this after december 2015, you might notice this chapter doesn't quite fit the format of the rest of the story. That's because I'm leaving it as-is in memory of my grandfather, who passed away a few days before I originally posted this. Hence hospital visits and gluten-free ice cream. Also in his memory, I want to remind you guys - do not, ever, no matter what, avoid cancer screenings or ignore warnings. Stay safe, stay healthy, and take care of yourselves.


	6. Storytelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John tries to explain Sburb to Thor and then Tony, the Harley-Egberts meet in Stark tower, and Rose promises no to blow up an airbase.

==> Be John Egbert

"It started with this video game from a while back. We were told it was just a normal game, but it sorta created the apocalypse. My friends and I met up with these other players of the game, a group of trolls, and we escaped our game session before it died."

You're walking alongside Thor (actual god of thunder Thor ohmygod) and trying your best to recount your story of Suburb. It really doesn't help that most of the names for everything sound like gibberish.

"Trolls? It sounds like one of our myths."

"Yeah, I guess so. We didn't think they were real trolls either until we met them. Anyway, we all ended up with these powers along the way - I got my wind powers, Dave got time travel, Rose got seeing the future and a whole load of magic stuff, and Jade basically got, like, omnipotence."

"And what of the trolls?"

"Most of them ended up dead. I only met a few of them. I know a couple made it to godtier, but I never really met them except for online."

"I see."

It was a long walk to Avengers Tower from the other side of the city, where Hiemdall had placed them. You had laughed at Thor's curses into the sky when they had found out how far away they were, but now after walking for over an hour (neither of you have the money for a cab and you didn't really want to attract attention by flying), your feet are starting to hurt. You're just glad that none of the people who seem to have recognised Thor have come up and tried to talk to them. You are not in the mood to end up in one of those sorts of conversations. 

"Are we almost there?"

"Still a kilometre or so to go, but we're close, yes."

"Good." You really need to get back to your session. Who knows what could have happened in your absence?

 

==> Dave Strider: Time travel in an unfamiliar manner.

That's the plan. You're in orbit around Earth, and the Doctor is on yet another rant. That's all this guy seems to be about; rants and skewed timelines. You should get him a shirt with that on it.

"There are no fewer than five other people on Earth right now who have links to your timeline. Of those, two were born on Earth, with no otherworldly dealings; we'd best leave them alone, it's probably a coincidence they ended up on the scanner. The other three all appeared within a week or so of each other in the year 2016, dotted around the globe. One of them's made it onto the news; I pulled up the footage." He swings the screen around so that you can see an image of what looks like London. A figure in golden god tier robes floats in the air, surrounded by black magic. Looks like Rose has been busy.

"That's my sister." You say to the Doctor. "Can we get there?"

"If she's caused that big of a scene, she'll be with the police." Rose (other Rose; time travel Rose?) replies. "We should probably go straight there."

"If it's in London, then she'll probably be with the Unified Intelligence Taskforce." The Doctor starts inputting coordinates and the console room shakes again as you make your descent, simultaneously skipping forward in time. You land with the same unhealthy screeching noise as before, and you're wondering whether you should raise your concerns about the welfare of the ship as you walk out the door.

 

==> John: Meet up with Jade

It's a quick elevator trip up to Mr Stark's office before you're assaulted by a pair of dog ears and a stream of relieved cursing. It takes you a couple of seconds to figure out that Jade's beaten you to the punch.

You notice three men standing beyond the door of the lift; two are dressed scruffily, with an air of well-travelled tiredness, but one wears a well-trimmed suit, though he somehow still manages to be less formal than the others. He waves at Thor, who waves back.

It takes several cups of coffee and toasted sandwiches all round (seemingly prepared by a sentient computer) for Jade to tell you where she was in the game and how she got here, but you reply with yours much faster. The man in the suit – who you’d heard Thor called Man of Iron, but whose name is apparently Tony – listened with interest to both tales. When both you and your ecto-sister relapse back into silence, Tony gets up. “You guys mentioned something about 'godtier powers', right? Can I see?"

You spin some air around your hand, making sure it messes with the hair of the taller scruffy-looking guy (Sam, you think). He glares at you, but doesn’t say anything. Tony seems rapt.

“I need to run tests on both of you,” he begins, “and I need to do scans on your energy readings, and oh my god I should  _totally-_ ”

“Man of Iron,” Thor interrupts, “there are more pressing matters at hand.”

“Yeah, but the  _power_  they could-”

“No.”

“There are still two more of us out there,” Jade tells him, “but we aren’t sure where they are. We had a messaging system, but it hasn't been working for me.”

“Me neither.” You add. “Been offline since I got here.”

“Well, if we know Rose and Dave, they’ll be doing the same thing we did. They should show up here sooner or later, right?”

“If you need a place to stay, I can put you up for a bit,” Tony says, “but –” he raises one finger, “I want to run those tests.”

Thor sighs exasperatedly. You, Jade, Thor and Scruff 1 and Scruff 2 all look at each other. “I guess that would be okay,” you finally say, as the others nod.

The grin of pure science Tony replies with would be enough to make even Doc Scratch nervous.

 

==> Osgood: Speak to the detainee

You can't be characters that aren't originally from the Homestuck universe. Sorry, but those are the rules.

So you're observing Osgood. Go ahead and take a look.

She's walking down a metallic, brightly-lit corridor, clipboard in hand, inhaler in the pocket of her chalk-white lab coat. The long striped scarf is still would around her neck, insulating her from the chilled temperatures of the airship Valiant. At the end of the tunnel waits Rose Lalonde, separated from her visitor by a thick barrier of bullet-proof glass guarded by two soldiers carrying semi-automatic weapons. They both know that neither the glass nor the guards are necessary or particularly effective, but for the comfort of some of the staff on board, she's agreed to it for the time being.

"Hello, Rose." Osgood says into the speaker imbedded in the wall.

"Good afternoon, Miss Osgood," a calm voice replies.

"How are you settling in?"

"As well as can be expected, though I don't think I can say the same for the two here guarding me. I don't think they feel very safe."

"Well, they're not, really, are they?"

"I assure you that they very much are. I have no intention of harming anyone on this ship."

"Good to hear." Osgood moves toward the door. "Mind if I...?"

"Please, come in." Rose sits down on one of two chairs in the room, and Osgood follows suit. "You have some questions, I assume."

 

_Detainee B6 - Rose Lalonde Interview transcript. Present: Miss Rose Lalonde, Miss Charlotte Osgood_

_4:13pm, Wednesday 6 November 2016_

_Osgood: Miss Lalonde, are you human?_

_Lalonde: I was born human, yes._

_Osgood: Have you ever had off-world dealings with other species?_

_Lalonde: Yes._

_Osgood: How did you come to acquire the powers you currently possess?_

_Lalonde: Through what I now suspect to be a parallel dimension, which allowed me to create a set of 'magic wands', and which also provided me with vague prophetic abilities._

_Osgood: The weapons that were confiscated from you upon you arrival, what exactly can they do?_

_Lalonde: The science is inexact, but to put it simply they are controlled using thought, and possibly through the influence of varying computer programs. They allow me the equivalent of telekinetic powers._

_Osgood: Are you aware of any current threat to Earth from extraterrestrial sources?_

_Lalonde: I can't be sure, but I know of no direct threat, no._

_Osgood: Thank you for your time, Miss Lalonde._

_End of recording._

 

"Before you go, Miss Osgood," Rose asks.

"Just Charlotte is fine."

"Charlotte, then." Rose gets up. "Is there any news on people like me anywhere? I have a brother, and two friends."

"I can certainly look into it," Osgood replies.

"Thank you."

"Dinner will be here shortly," Osgood says as she opens the door. "I'm afraid the food here isn't very good, though."

"Not a problem. I'm sure I've eaten worse."

As the door clicks shut behind her, Charlotte Osgood decides that she rather likes Miss Rose Lalonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rowing season ends tomorrow with the biggest regatta of the year!  
> Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing!  
> \- mysticalArchitect
> 
> EDIT: a new mix of chapters 14, 15, 16, and 17! It's kind of irritating that I have to delete old chapters because I'm losing a lot of you awesome comments like this. AO3 should really have a "merge chapter" feature.


	7. Meetups and journalism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock develops an interest in journalism, Jade provides data, and Dave ends up at a military base.

==> John Watson: Follow the news

It's been three days since a girl in gold robes blew a hole in the wall of 221B Baker Street, and Sherlock has spent almost the entire time (sans one unsuccessful forensics analysis) researching everything he could remember about her. He's looked through CCTV of as much of London as he could hack into, read every news article he can published in the last three weeks, and interviewed anyone seen on camera near her in the eight hours leading up to the event, all of which has yielded... nothing.

He's getting frustrated, and John's getting worried for the safety of the resident teacups, plates, and bowls, many of which are in grave danger of being smashed against a wall. Currently, however, Sherlock is searching clothing manufacturers for anything that might match the robes she was wearing, and it looks like the flat’s culinary implements are safe.

The TV is on in front of John, and he's returning to his half-sleeping state of 'watching the news' when something catches his eye. He turns the volume up in time to hear the report. "In breaking news now, a shocking event has occurred in Times Square, where what appears to be a young girl has destroyed one of the main monuments in the area. CCTV footage, now streaming live, shows the girl appearing to use a set of 'magic wands' to create these explosions. No word yet on whether this is genuine or merely some kind of trick. Police have cordoned off the area, and buses are expected to be delayed over the next few hours as the situation is dealt with." In the next room, you hear Sherlock sit bolt upright at his laptop. "Turn the volume up!" He yells as he races to the sitting room.

With the TV at full volume, John and Sherlock stand to attention for a full five minutes while the newsreel, featuring interviews with various dishevelled businessmen and women, plays out. The second it finishes, Sherlock grabs his coat off the back of the chair and walks to the door as he flicks the collar up, saying over his shoulder, "tell Lestrade I'll be at Scotland Yard in five minutes."

"Hold on!" John calls, irritated. He grabs the house keys and hurriedly shoves them into his pocket before chasing the detective out the door.

 

==> Jade: show off

"Fascinating," you hear Tony Stark exclaim for the fifth time as he examines the graphs. "Absolutely fascinating!"

You're in the viewing room for the official Stark™ Examination Centre, and John's been demonstrating various aspects off his power for the past half hour or so. Sam, Dean, and the guy John showed up with are all hanging out in another part of the Stark building, presumably with coffee, doughnuts and a movie if your first impressions of this place are anything to go by.

"Um, what's fascinating?" John asks him through the microphone, still in the bleached-white testing room beyond, and the scientist jumps as if only just remembering that there are others in the vicinity.

"Well, for one thing, these energy readings are off the charts," he presses the microphone button and starts to babble, "but it's not using any sort of energy I would expect. You're actually using infra-red radiation to do this stuff, and then converting it somehow into kinetic energy. Thing is, I can't figure out exactly how that's working, or why." He saves a few of the graphs into a dropbox entitled 'god tier - the windy thing', before remotely unlocking the door to the test room and saying into the microphone, "okay, you can come out now."

John exits the whitewashed chamber as Tony motions for you to enter. "Dog-girl, you're up next."

"You know, you could just call me Jade," you grumble as you walk through the door, but he waves you off with a reply of 'now where's the fun in that?'.

The door seals with a hiss behind you as Tony's voice comes through the intercom. "First thing I want to see is the matter manipulation you showed me earlier. There are several balls of different materials on the table to your right. I want you to put on the wristbands next to them, then stretch and shrink each of them in turn." Easy enough. You do as he says, and he studies the graphs for a solid few minutes before forming a new folder entitled 'god tier - omnipotence' and filing them away.

Omnipotence. You like that.

 

==> Dave Strider: Enter UNIT

You walk out the doors of the Doctor's weird spaceship into a huge, echoing warehouse and the first thing you think is that if this really is UNIT, they need to be more organised because this just looks like a lot of confused English people instead of a leading organisation to you.

That is, until the sharp woman in the military uniform walks up and tells them that they've landed in Sector 32, storage facility of the airship Valiant, and that they need to follow her immediately. She leads you, Rose, and the Doctor to a little building set apart from the main hangar and orders you to sit. Rose reacts warily and the Doctor sarcastically. You take a seat with your usual chill.

"I am General Magumbo," the woman says, "and from our records, you are the Doctor, Rose Tyler, and… an unknown."

She does this sort of glare at you, and you get the feeling she's in charge of a pretty powerful weapons unit. "Dave Strider," you introduce yourself, "time traveller, universe-builder, and professional DJ." She raises her eyebrows at you and you shrug, sending the message as clearly as you can that she should probably be impressed. Her gaze moves to one of wariness and you can almost see the label of 'possibly dangerous' she's branded you with.

Suddenly, her wary expression gives way to recognition. "Any connection to a Miss Rose Lalonde?" She asks.

Rose is here? You guess the Doctor was right. You nod slightly. "She's my sister."

"Miss Lalonde was apprehended after an incident several days ago. She's currently aboard the Valiant with some of our top scientists. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart led the team intervening during our encounter with Miss Lalonde; she's currently at her office in the Tower of London, but I can patch a video link at first available notice." Magumbo then directs her attention away from you and to the Doctor. "Sir," she says, saluting, and the Doctor winces.

"Stop being so military." He says. "I'm just here to help Dave find his sister."

"If I may ask, which regeneration are you in?" Magumbo enquires, picking up a tablet as if to take notes.

"My ninth- why does that matter?"

"Confidentiality reasons," the general replies as she taps the tablet twice before putting it down. "We need to be sure not to give you any information on any events that happen in your personal future.

"Follow me," she orders. "The Valiant will be landing soon, and I want to brief you on current events before it touches down."

* * *

 

 

After a brief video message full of formalities in which the general instruction you got from Kate Lethbridge Stewart was 'behave yourself', you're hanging in a little futuristic-style waiting room filled with a sofa, a table with a couple of newspapers, a coffee machine and an abundance of high-resolution CCTV cameras. The door is locked, and they gave you a brief search before leaving you in here while they took the Doctor and Rose away for a 'debriefing' - presumably to sort out where on each others' timelines they are.

Time travel. Ugh.

_What was that about regeneration?_

You're pondering the possibility that the Doctor is another species, which honestly makes a lot of sense, when there's a click at the door and it swings open to reveal an armed guard. He's holding a gun in one hand, and judging by the smirk on his face he definitely thinks he's the shit. "General Magumbo sent me to fetch you," he says, evidently pleased that the General has selected him for the job. _Sure, buddy. You're the chosen one._

You hop up, decidedly undeterred by his condescending expression, and raise an eyebrow at him in challenge as you walk past. You hear him huff as he closes the door behind you.

General Magumbo is waiting for you near where you first landed in the TARDIS, with the Doctor and Rose by her side. You nod in greeting, and receive a friendly 'all right, Dave?' from Rose.

"Doing pretty well." You say. "They have some okay coffee here."

"The Valiant will be landing in a few minutes." Magumbo says. "Miss Lalonde is on board - we had to place her with Miss Osgood, who is studying her case and also working as a part of the research crew on the airship. We also felt it would be... safer to get her away from any major cities for a while."

"Weren't you worried she'd blow up your airship?" You ask, to which Magumbo indulges herself in a satisfied smile.

"The Valiant is the only airship of its size and capabilities on the planet. It can't be brought down by anything less than a nuclear bomb."

You give a little shrug to convey that you think it was risky. "Rose is pretty powerful. She hasn't been anything near malicious since we got her out of grimdark, but she still lacks a punch."

"What's-?" The Doctor starts to ask, but then stops as a near gale-force wind whips through the hangar. A massive shape begins to descend to the ground, and within a couple of minutes the airship Valiant is stood before you, filling almost the entire warehouse and creating a huge cacophony as its engines slow down and eventually grind to a halt. A door opens in the side of the ship and a walkway folds out and reaches towards the ground.

People start to file off of the ship, mainly scientists in white lab coats, but occasionally guards in Kevlar vests with guns in hand and the word U.N.I.T. branded on the back of their uniforms. About tenth to emerge is a small, closely huddled group led by a woman in a lab coat and striped scarf.

Walking just behind the woman is Rose, easily distinguishable by her golden godtier robes.

 

==> Be Rose Lalonde

You're drifting off into a light sleep when Charlotte comes to fetch you. She doesn't say much, only that they're landing back at UNIT headquarters - it seems the test flight they were running has come to its conclusion. You follow her to the main doors of the ship and watch as the steps descend to the ground.

As you're walking down the stairs, the guards that had previously stood by the doors of your holding cell follow close behind - a clear message that you still haven't fully earned their trust.

A familiar set of colours jumps out at you from the throng of people below. Dave is standing in the crowd, his deep red god tier outfit very out of place among the military camouflage around him. He raises a hand in greeting, and you give a small wave back. You should have know he'd find his way here soon enough.

Once the ground, an woman who introduces herself as Magumbo leads Dave and two other people over to where you and Charlotte stand. As the officer converses with the scientist, you finally find yourself in a position to hug your ecto-brother.

"Sup, Lalonde?" he asks when you throw your arms around his neck. "How's this freaky new universe treating you?"

"Oh, not so bad," you reply, taking a step back. "I thought it was a dream bubble at first, actually. Met a medical doctor and a sociopathic jerk sharing a flat, blew up a nationally treasured statue - not too much has been going on. You?"

Dave jerks his thumb back at the blonde girl and the man in the leather jacket, who are standing just behind him and talking amongst themselves. "Met a couple of time travellers. Pretty sure the guy is a different species.” The girl notices your curious gaze and waves. You offer her a smile, and she mutters something to Leather Jacket, who turns to stare.

“This is your sister, then, Dave?” He asks, and holds is hand out to you. “Pleased to meet you. I’m the Doctor, and this is my friend Rose.”

“Rose Lalonde,” you introduce yourself, accepting the handshake. Two Roses - if you hang around together for two long, this might cause a few miscommunications. “I’m told you two are time travellers?” The other Rose is about to reply when General Magumbo interrupts her.

“Hate to break up this little chat, but we have a few questions for Mr. Strider.”

 

==> Be Tony Stark

I think you mean 'view Tony Stark'.

At this point in time, Tony Stark is at the Avengers tower with more scientific data in front of him than he's ever had to review in his life. He's got about twelve main folders waiting to be analysed, labelled things such as 'god tier - the windy thing', 'god tier - teleportation', 'sburb - sylladex', and 'apocalypse - portals and skaia'. Some contain charts and energy readings, mostly in numerical data, while others are filled with hand-typed notes from John and Jade or garbled recordings of their descriptions of the game.

He opens one of the folders, entitled 'teleportation - appearances on Earth'. This one contains GPS trails from one experiment where he'd managed to isolate their energy signatures and then set JARVIS to work mapping out their journeys to New York. Jade's trail, highlighted in green, zigzags across America, heading steadily towards Avengers tower, while John's (a light blue), skips through a couple of foreign realms before landing on Earth. Tony scrolls over the recent dots of the past few days, all centred in and around Avengers tower, moving once or twice to the Examination Centre just outside the city. The time signatures of various parts of the trails appear as he moves the mouse over them.

Suddenly, he notices something that seems off, camouflaged among the maelstrom of blue and green. He scrolls his mouse back over the trails until he finds what he'd seen - two time signatures dating back to long before the pair had arrived in New York. The trails only lasted a second - but the next time the energy signatures appeared was at the start of the kids' journeys - in Jade's case, on the other side of America, and in John's, on the other side of the galaxy. But why would the two of them appear in New York? Or, more accurately, three thousand feet above New York...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy writing John and Sherlock, I really do.  
> Now a combination of what was previously chapters 18, 19, and 20!  
> As always, kudos and comments are really appreciated.  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	8. Classified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock throws a tantrum and the Doctor is told what he may and may not know. Plus, Tony Stark does Science and the Winchesters beat up Thor.
> 
> Take it. Just take it. I can't believe I put off posting this for a month god DAMN IT

==> Be John Watson

“No. No way.” Sherlock Holmes is standing before the desk of Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard, and trying his best to look pleading.

“Please, Lestrade. Just one file, that’s all I need.”

“It’s not a matter of agreement, Sherlock, I just don’t have the clearance! The case has been taken over by the United Nations, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.” He crosses his arms. Case closed. “Why don’t you talk to your brother about it?”

Sherlock groans, shoulders collapsing in like a petulant child, but John squints at Lestrade. “How do you know Mycroft? You’ve never met him.”

Lestrade shifts in his seat. “Working in this industry, one hears things.” He says. “It doesn’t matter, the point is that he probably has enough influence to help you.”

“But I hate him!” Sherlock grumbles. “Who cares? He’s got info,” John says, herding the genius out the door. “Thanks, Lestrade!” he calls over his shoulder as the pair make their exit.

By the time they’ve left the building and made their way back out into the frosty evening, Sherlock’s made a full recovery back to his usual, arrogant self. He pulls out his cellphone and dials a long and complicated number (probably full of security clearance codes just to get to the account itself, knowing Mycroft).

The phone rings three times before Mycroft picks it up. “Brother dear,” John hears the phone buzz, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“No time for your pleasantries, Mycroft. I need information on the girl from Times Square last week.” Sherlock’s speech is quick and direct. Another buzz on the line (no doubt Mycroft explaining the top secrecy of the files) and then Sherlock snaps. “I don’t care, Mycroft! That girl was at my house. I want to know who she is and where she is now, immediately!” A pause before John faintly makes out the words ‘I’ll see what I can do’ from the phone. Sherlock hangs up without another word and quickens his pace, hailing a taxi by the side of the street and jumping in, blogger in tow.

“So, where exactly are we going now?” John asks.

“The other side of town. Mycroft will call in, oh,” he checks his watch, “ten minutes or so and tell us to meet him there. I find it’s best to be early.” He leans forward and gives an address to the cabbie, who pulls off the verge and into the traffic. “With any luck, we’ll know who that girl was in under an hour.”

==> Be the Doctor

Being the Doctor would probably burn your brain. We all know what happened to Donna.

Observing him, one is able to see almost as much far, far more safely.

The Doctor’s currently standing in the helices of UNIT headquarters, and the main thought that’s running through his oh-so-burn-y brain is that a lot has changed since he worked for this place. The number of people bustling around in the name of a ‘top-secret’ organisation is almost astounding, and makes the Time Lord wonder just how secretive the taskforce even is these days. There’s almost no way they’d be able to hide something as big as this from the general public. Then again, they could be using false company names.

A baby-faced young man in a military uniform appears next to his shoulder. “Miss Lethbridge-Stewart wants to brief you on current timelines,” he says, slightly out of breath, before adding, “and might I say, sir, it’s truly an honour to meet you.” he salutes, and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, stop it.” He says. “I don’t need your army shenanigans. A handshake will do.”

“Really?” The man looks like he’s on Cloud Nine.

“Yep,” the Doctor grasps his hand and shakes it quickly. “What was your name?”

“Uh, Private Flynn Bardsley, sir.”

“Nice to meet you, Flynn. You lead on, I’ll follow.”

Private Bardsley makes his way past a crowd of workers lifting and moving machinery across the hangar and exits the building via a small side door in the corrugated iron wall. The Doctor follows, motioning to Rose to stay behind. ‘Keep an eye on Dave,’ he mouths as he leaves.

Outside, the air is crisp and the sky is grey over the gravel road where an SUV is waiting. Private Bardsley hops in and starts the ignition.

The drive to the Tower of London takes all of ten silent minutes, Private Bardsley maintaining a constant speed of about 20 kilometres per hour above the speed limit at all times. Upon arrival, the Doctor is hurried into an office near the top of the Tower. A woman in a suit shakes his hand and welcomes him to UNIT’s official head office.

“Ninth regeneration, correct?” she asks, and then when the Doctor nods, she says, “I expect this is the first you’ve seen of UNIT in a few life cycles.You would have known my father - Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, ran UNIT when you were employed here.”

“Since when did the Brigadier have a daughter?” the Doctor asks.

“I was born about two or three years after you last saw him. Grew up with stories of your adventures lulling me to sleep each night.” She gave a short of half-shrug, half-wince, accompanied by a chuckle. “Anyway - briefing. What you can and can’t know. Now, we’ve had a few recent incidents with your future incarnations, though mostly in chronological order relative to your own timeline - you seem to be a bit of an outlier.

“As such, we’ve had to block off quite a bit. Anything marked ‘The Grave Rain Incident’, ‘The Duplicate Complication’, or ‘Atmos Intelligence’ is strictly off limits - it pertains to your next three incarnations and we can’t trust that you won’t remember it. A few other files, referring to even later in your timeline, are partially unlocked - the information has an inbuilt decay half-life of about a century, so by the time you reach the events, you won’t remember a thing.” The Doctor nods.

“Tell me, Kate, what exactly do you expect Rose and I to do while we’re here? If you’re unlocking this much, I’m assuming it’s important.”

“Not particularly, but if you’ve brought a possible inter-dimensional traveller, you’re our main source of expertise on both Dave and anything else that might have arrived with him.” She shrugged. “Put simply, Doctor, we’re stumped.”

 

==> Be John Egbert

You are John Egbert, and you are currently being Very Important.

How Very Important, you hear absolutely no-one ask?

So incredibly important that you are officially trusted enough by SHIELD, the only intelligence on alien technology in the world, to run flights over New York as training for possible future missions you and Jade might be sent on. As long as you’re stuck on Earth, you might as well help out. And besides, you won’t be here for long - Tony and Thor are already looking for a way home.

Jade, strictly speaking, can’t “fly”, just sort of shift her coordinates so she’s floating above ground, but she’s gliding along in a pretty good impression of the genuine article. The giveaway is that gusts of wind don’t affect her at all, compared to the way they buffet you from left to right. A tight turn, looping round a glass spire-like skyscraper (New York is so cool), and you’re homebound, weaving between building after building as you race the designated path home. As you approach Stark Tower, you see Tony waving you down, and land in front of him. He’s a bit out of breath; it’s fairly clear he just ran here.

“You have got to see this,” he says, and you can hear the excitement in his voice.

As you and Jade follow him to the lift, you notice her dog ears are perked forward. She’s certainly interested, and you guess you are too. If ‘apprehensive’, ‘worried’, and ‘concerned for the wellbeing of a certain genius engineer’ count as interested.

Down below ground, Tony’s computers are fully set up, with holographic screens running calculations as they float across the room. Tony catches one and enlarges it before throwing the image onto the wall to his right. It’s a map of America, with two different dotted lines tracking across the continent; one blue, one green, centred around New York to the point where it’s just become a turquoise cloud.

“Know what this is?” Tony asks, and Jade shakes her head. “It’s a map of your movements - I’ve been refining it for a couple of days. I isolated your individually freakish energy wavelengths during the experiments last week, and made this to show where you’ve been.”

“…okay,” Jade says, “but how does this help us with anything?”

Tony calls, “JARVIS, hide data logged after the 1st of November.” The cloud over New York disappears, and only a single green dot is left hovering somewhere near Alabama. “Zoom in on New York.” The map scales in until the city fills the screen. Above the centre of the map, you notice there are still two dots, one blue and one green, overlapping to a point that it’s almost impossible to distinguish them. “Give me the dates for data points in the New York area.”

“31st of October, 2016, sir,” JARVIS replies coolly.

“Halloween!” Tony crows. “Okay, now give me the time for both of the points in New York, followed by the time and date of the single data point over Alabama.”

“The points over New York were recorded at 11:24:13:99 pm. The point over Alabama was recorded at 11:24:14:00 pm, 31st of October 2016.”

“One millisecond apart?” Jade asks.

“Exactly. Somehow, before you ended up where you think you started, you appeared for a fraction of a second above New York. Freaky, huh?”

“Not just freaky; impossible.” Jade says. “Davesprite once told me it takes me exactly point two eight seconds to teleport in jumps between places. That’s way faster than what I can do.”

“Davesprite has time powers?” You ask. Jade shrugs.

You wonder what happened to Davesprite. Probably sitting somewhere on an abandoned planet. Maybe he went to the outer ring. You hope he’s okay. Has time even been passing in the session? Are you in some kind of freaky time-lock? You hope you don’t end up with that shitty anime guy when you go back. He was awful. You realise you haven’t even asked Jade what she remembers. Maybe you should-

Tony’s talking and you’ve totally zoned out. Shit. You listen back in in time to hear him say, “we snapped this footage from last year’s attack. Check it out.” He swipes some holographic dials and a soundless video comes up on screen, grainy blurs flicking across it. Above New York, a huge portal, deep purple in colour, swirls menacingly. “Guess where that thing was,” Tony says excitedly, and it’s fairly easy to guess.

“Just where we first appeared, right?”

 

==> Be Thor Odinson

Surprisingly, you CAN be Thor. There is a perfectly normal reason as to why, but if you want to go into conspiracy theories, feel free. For now, suffice to say that Thor does what he wants. Or, more specifically, you do what you want.

You must admit, these two brothers, Sam and Dean, are impressive fighters. They lack training and discipline, but still have a natural spirit of attack, and their teamwork is impressive. It’s been almost a week since you all first met, eating (delicious) Earth snacks as the two non-realm children reunited and the Man of Iron researched their origins. It wasn’t long before you all became bored, and decided on a sparring match to pass the time.

It’s clear that all of you work better with weapons than hand-to-hand combat - which is exactly why hand-to-hand combat is almost all you’ve been working on. Sam and Dean have improved markably - you actually haven’t, and they’re starting to best you in your matches.

Dean lunges at you from your right, and you twist around to grab his arms and hold him away from you. He struggles in an attempt to break free, but you have a foot of height and at least an extra ten kilos of muscle working to your advantage. What you don’t have, however, is a younger brother. At least, not one who isn’t a ‘murderous ragefest of daddy issues’ (that’s what the Man of Iron calls him). Sam Winchester barrels into your left side, throwing you a metre or two across the floor and landing you quite decisively on the ground. “We win,” he says, and he and Dean high-five. You get up, stretching out your back.

“I accept defeat. Care to challenge me again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I HAVE TEN CHAPTERS READY AND WAITING TO GO I'M JUST SUPER PARANOID ABOUT RUNNING OUT OF WRITTEN STUFF
> 
> EDIT: i slapped together chapters 21 and 22, so enjoy!


	9. The Rift

==> Be John Egbert

You are John Egbert, and you are currently being Very Important.

How Very Important, you hear absolutely no-one ask?

So incredibly important that you are officially trusted enough by SHIELD, the only intelligence on alien technology in the world, to run flights over New York as training for possible future missions you and Jade might be sent on. As long as you’re stuck on Earth, you might as well help out. And besides, you won’t be here for long - Tony and Thor are already looking for a way home.

Jade, strictly speaking, can’t “fly”, just sort of shift her coordinates so she’s floating above ground, but she’s gliding along in a pretty good impression of the genuine article. The giveaway is that gusts of wind don’t affect her at all, compared to the way they buffet you from left to right. A tight turn, looping round a glass spire-like skyscraper (New York is so cool), and you’re homebound, weaving between building after building as you race the designated path home. As you approach Stark Tower, you see Tony waving you down, and land in front of him. He’s a bit out of breath; it’s fairly clear he just ran here.

“You have got to see this,” he says, and you can hear the excitement in his voice.

As you and Jade follow him to the lift, you notice her dog ears are perked forward. She’s certainly interested, and you guess you are too. If ‘apprehensive’, ‘worried’, and ‘concerned for the wellbeing of a certain genius engineer’ count as interested.

Down below ground, Tony’s computers are fully set up, with holographic screens running calculations as they float across the room. Tony catches one and enlarges it before throwing the image onto the wall to his right. It’s a map of America, with two different dotted lines tracking across the continent; one blue, one green, centred around New York to the point where it’s just become a turquoise cloud.

“Know what this is?” Tony asks, and Jade shakes her head. “It’s a map of your movements - I’ve been refining it for a couple of days. I isolated your individually freakish energy wavelengths during the experiments last week, and made this to show where you’ve been.”

“…okay,” Jade says, “but how does this help us with anything?”

Tony calls, “JARVIS, hide data logged after the 1st of November.” The cloud over New York disappears, and only a single green dot is left hovering somewhere near Alabama. “Zoom in on New York.” The map scales in until the city fills the screen. Above the centre of the map, you notice there are still two dots, one blue and one green, overlapping to a point that it’s almost impossible to distinguish them. “Give me the dates for data points in the New York area.”

“31st of October, 2016, sir,” JARVIS replies coolly.

“Halloween!” Tony crows. “Okay, now give me the time for both of the points in New York, followed by the time and date of the single data point over Alabama.”

“The points over New York were recorded at 11:24:13:99 pm. The point over Alabama was recorded at 11:24:14:00 pm, 31st of October 2016.”

“One millisecond apart?” Jade asks.

“Exactly. Somehow, before you ended up where you think you started, you appeared for a fraction of a second above New York. Freaky, huh?”

“Not just freaky; impossible.” Jade says. “Davesprite once told me it takes me exactly point two eight seconds to teleport in jumps between places. That’s way faster than what I can do.”

“Davesprite has time powers?” You ask. Jade shrugs.

You wonder what happened to Davesprite. Probably sitting somewhere on an abandoned planet. Maybe he went to the outer ring. You hope he’s okay. Has time even been passing in the session? Are you in some kind of freaky time-lock? You hope you don’t end up with that shitty anime guy when you go back. He was awful. You realise you haven’t even asked Jade what she remembers. Maybe you should-

Tony’s talking and you’ve totally zoned out. Shit. You listen back in in time to hear him say, “we snapped this footage from last year’s attack. Check it out.” He swipes some holographic dials and a soundless video comes up on screen, grainy blurs flicking across it. Above New York, a huge portal, deep purple in colour, swirls menacingly. “Guess where that thing was,” Tony says excitedly, and it’s fairly easy to guess.

“Just where we first appeared, right?”

Tony points at him, fingers forming symbolic guns. "Bingo."

 

==> Be Thor Odinson

Surprisingly, you CAN be Thor. There is a perfectly normal reason as to why, but if you want to go into conspiracy theories, feel free. For now, suffice to say that Thor does what he wants. Or, more specifically, you do what you want.

You must admit, these two brothers, Sam and Dean, are impressive fighters. They lack training and discipline, but still have a natural spirit of attack, and their teamwork is impressive. It’s been almost a week since you all first met, eating (delicious) Earth snacks as the two non-realm children reunited and the Man of Iron researched their origins. It wasn’t long before the three of you became bored, and decided on a sparring match to pass the time.

That was six days ago, and you've been non-stop training since, mostly just the three of you but occasionally challenged by SHIELD agents using the gym. You've won many matches against outsiders, but the brotherly duo before you is starting to prove far more difficult.

It’s clear that all of you work better with weapons than hand-to-hand combat - which is exactly why hand-to-hand combat is almost all you’ve been working on. Sam and Dean have improved markably - you actually haven’t, and they’re starting to best you more and more frequently.

Dean lunges at you from your right, and you twist around to grab his arms and hold him away from you. He struggles in an attempt to break free, but you have a foot of height and at least an extra ten kilos of muscle working to your advantage. What you don’t have, however, is a younger brother. At least, not one who isn’t a ‘murderous ragefest of daddy issues’ (that’s what the Man of Iron calls him). Sam Winchester barrels into your left side, throwing you a metre or two across the floor and landing you quite decisively on the ground. “We win,” he says, and he and Dean high-five. You get up, stretching out your back.

“I accept defeat. Care to challenge me again?”

 

==> Be Officer Magumbo

No.

Officer Magumbo does not have time for people to ‘be her’.

Officer Magumbo is far too busy being briefed on the energy trails that have appeared in Northern America and that match the kinetic powers of detainees 2413 and 2414 - Mister Dave Strider and Miss Rose Lalonde.

It’s been several days since Miss Lalonde and Mister Strider were reunited, and UNIT has been running tests on their powers in order to better understand just how they appeared on Earth. The Doctor has been staying with them and loaning his technology, albeit reluctantly, and now they have some idea of where this all started.

New York is known to Officer Magumbo and to the rest of the world as the site of the famous Chitauri incident just over a year ago, in which a large portal appeared above the city and gave rise to an alien attack - subsequently fought off by renowned entrepreneur Tony Stark, several other off-worlders, specialised weapons technicians and other unidentified individuals. UNIT was too late to the scene to offer aid and America was no longer part of the United Nations Alliance that formed it, so there were no nearby bases to rely on other than one independent research station. It was almost total chaos.

UNIT had been planning on running tests on the rift site to see if it had stabilised properly, but had had its own problems to deal with in the UK and hadn’t been able to get into contact with the US Government to send a research team over.

It didn’t help that most of the US doesn’t know about UNIT whatsoever, as that information was incredibly classified (and had since been covertly mind-wiped from those who once knew), and currently still assumes the only power the British Government has is its rudimentary army. There have been running theories on just what would happen if America ever did decide to wage war - most of them focussing on the shocked faces of US Navy and Army teams when they realised just what they were up against. Magumbo herself, knowing the exact number of UNIT soldiers under Alliance control, most of which are British divisions and all of which can be called in to defend them, is proud to say that when UNIT combines with the British Army, they outnumber America three-to-one.

Jane-Marie Smith is UNIT’s top xenoscientist, specialising in ‘unidentifiable’ energies and materials. Magumbo likes working with her - she always sticks to the facts, and rarely strays off target of their goals. She’s a tall, chubby woman with large hands surprisingly capable of making the tiniest of movements when conducting experiments.

Miss Smith points to the map behind her. “We’ve identified two brief points of identical signatures at around 2000 feet above the city of New York, USA. Miss Lalonde’s signature appears again at almost exactly the same millisecond in London, while Mr Strider seems to disappear entirely before fading back in later, accompanied by the Doctor and Miss Rose Tyler. The TARDIS’s fields scrambled the signature a bit, so the readings are inexact for about an hour before and after they landed.”

“So what you’re saying is that whatever brought them here is in New York?” General Nassaj, one of your more senior colleagues, asks.

“It’s a likely possibility, yes.” Miss Smith replies. “I’d suggest sending the Valiant over - it’s the only stable craft we have that can hover for very long at that altitude, and it’s already set to go. We can send word ahead to the US consulate and be there tomorrow.”

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, currently seated next to Magumbo, nods. “I’ll get the flight staff to prep the ship and be ready in a day or so. Until then, I want individual interviews with each of our guests - any details could be important if we’re going to ascertain possible future threats. Dismissed.” The crowd departed.

 

==> Be Dave Strider.

“Mr Strider, where is the last location you remember being before reaching the TARDIS?”

“Interdimensional murderous video game, chasing the body of my ex-girlfriend as she was carried off by anthropomorphic dogs.”

The interviewer raises an eyebrow. “We’re here to talk about facts, Mr Strider. This isn’t a game.”

“Trust me, I’m not joking around.”

 

==> The Doctor: Listen in on Dave’s interview

Well if he didn’t think the kid was special before, he certainly does now.

Dave is the only Time player of his game. Absolutely vital to the success of the session. If he doesn’t return to the Sburb-Verse soon, it could disintegrate.

The Doctor wonders if he knows that.

He also wonders if Dave knows just how messed up his session is. He's never heard of sessions individual sessions fusing like this before. The reality created by the eventual end of their game is going to be one hell of a place.

There are old stories saying the Time Lords once met one of the Sburb creators of this particular universe. It was the Time player at full god tier, and that was what originally sparked Gallifrey’s temporal shift projects, and gave them the knowledge of how to play Sburb (in fact, Gallifrey High Command once had a Sburb protocol with instructions for all players, that would be broadcast to all sentient beings on any planet where the game was activated). With a potential for what sounds like at least thirty-five main living and furthest ring players, Dave’s new universe is going to be… chaotic, to say the least.

Kate Lethbridge Stewart enters the viewing room and taps the Time Lord on the shoulder. “We’ve isolated a source for most of Dave and Rose’ energy above New York, USA. The Valiant is being prepped. I need you on that ship in the next hour.”

“Is Rose coming?”

“She doesn’t have the clearance. I’ve asked her to stay here with the two kids for now.”

“Fine, but you’d better tell her that yourself, or she’ll throw one hell of a riot.”

Miss Lethbridge-Stewart nods and leaves, and you turn your attention back to the interview in front of you. Dave’s moved on to the topic of his childhood for some reason, and you have to say you don’t think swords were a very good choice of toy for a thirteen-year-old of any skill level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The overhaul continues...  
> Sorry I dropped off the radar for so long, you guys. I'm finishing editing today and I'll add another chapter in a minute - I wrote two or three during my break so they're all set to go.  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	10. Trench Coats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the sports teacher at my French exchange school, who, after I told her I had a sore throat, let me sit in the stands and work on this fic for two hours straight. Rock on, Madame Rimbert.

==> Be Mycroft Holmes

Congratulations! You just gained ten new levels of information access within the British Government! Use it carefully. Our agents are _always watching._

Nope, not really. Being Mycroft would involve a _lot_ of paperwork that he really can’t be bothered to even think about filling out right now.

And watching him? Almost impossible. But somehow, you’re going to do it anyway.

Inside the office of Mycroft Holmes, yelling can be heard.

Also swearing. And repeated, aggressive iterations of ‘brother mine’.

“I know you have the clearance, Mycroft, so _tell me! Who was the girl at Times Square?”_

“Sherlock, you know I can’t share this kind of information with you, let alone John.”

“Uh, standing right here,” John chips in. Mycroft smiles sardonically and doesn’t apologise.

“You have several cases already waiting for you; the one about the murder over in Winchester seemed quite interesting.”

“I don’t want another case, I want to know who that girl was and how the _hell_ she blew up half my house!”

Mycroft sighs. “Look,” he says, “I can’t tell you this, I’ll have a gun at my forehead in an instant-“ Sherlock opens his mouth and Mycroft holds up a finger to stop him, “-but I’m not the only one with my level of clearance. I’m going to refer you to someone. He generally gets a lot of leeway with this sort of thing, an he might be able to give you the details you need.” He scribbled down a number. “Call on a blank cellphone if you can. I have no idea how much he’s being watched.”

 

==> Sherlock: Call the mystery guy

As the saying goes, _Sherlock Holmes is always prepared._

The saying is dead wrong, and these people need to learn how to be accurate in their reporting because quite frankly Sherlock Holmes is a childish drug addict who _never_ keeps records or resources when he needs to.

In the end, he has to send John to the shops to buy a blank cellphone while he waits, arms folded and proper posture all but completely gone, sulking on the sofa while Mrs Hudson makes tea.

The kettle has just boiled when John returns and throws the phone to Sherlock, who catches it and immediately begins tapping in some kind of message before dialling the number Mycroft had given him. 

On the fourth ring, a woman answers the phone.

“Uh, you’ve reached Jack’s phone, who’s speaking?” her accent is thick - definitely Welsh. 

“Tell him Mycroft sent me.” Sherlock replies. A brief scuffle as the woman covers the phone with her hand and yells at someone in the background. 

“Hey, Jack! Guy on the phone says someone called Mycroft sent him.”

“Give it here, Gwen.” The phone switches hands and an American comes on the line. 

“Hello?” he asks.

“This line probably isn’t secure but I need to meet you. Mycroft sent me for information about the Times Square incident a few weeks back.”

“Okay then.” The man sounded vaguely intrigued. “Cardiff City, West Street. There’s a little café I know called the Whisk Emporium; meet me there at 10 tomorrow morning?”

“Done.” 

“See you then.” He says. “I’ll be the one in the ridiculously good-looking trench coat.” Sherlock hears the woman from before laughing in the background as the man hangs up.

“Nice guy?” John asks.

“Not really my type.” Sherlock replies drily. “Whatever the case, I’m meeting him in Cardiff tomorrow morning; I’ll need to catch the early train.”

“Should I pack my stuff?”

“No, I need you to stay here and do some emailing. See if you can find anything about a-“ -he checks something written on the screen of the phone- “‘Captain Jack Harkness.’”

“You- you hacked his phone?” 

“His smartphone had caller ID. It wasn’t that hard to reverse and figure out what he named himself.” Sherlock gets up. “The first train to Cardiff leaves tomorrow morning at six. I’ll probably stay there overnight if I can, so I need to pack.” He turns and makes the climb up to the bedroom. “See if you can find that Captain Harkness!”

—

John ends up falling asleep at his laptop sometime around midnight, and so doesn’t notice when Sherlock leaves the next morning. A text, sent at 10-o’clock sharp, jolts him awake.

_At the café. How’s that research going? - SH_

John blinks as the focused back onto the screen in front of him. His research has thrown up some pretty weird results, but nothing specific dating to later than World War II. Various ‘Captain Jack Harkness’s, all practically identical, have been cropping up in history for centuries, and then dying in some really odd ways, the latest being an army captain who voluntarily went into the crash site of an undetonated bomb, blew it up in a controlled explosion, and then disappeared - no body to be found. There’s a small memorial on the western wall of the apartment block that stands on the site today.

According to census records, however, there are currently no ‘Jack Harkness’s bearing the title ‘Captain’ in any current British or American naval or army records. The last ‘Captain Harkness’ was a Scottish woman twenty years ago, but her first name was Sarah.

You sigh an pick up your phone. _Nothing yet,_ you text, _but I’m working on it._

 

==> Jack Harkness: Be the guy in the ridiculously good-looking trench coat

Well it looks like he has some competition on his hands. Hot _damn._

Jack doesn’t think he’s seen anyone looking that good in a trench coat (other than himself, of course) since he last saw the Doctor.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he introduces himself with a practised smirk. “And you are?”

Sherlock Holmes sits down opposite him. “You know who I am.”

“Yeah, you’re Mycroft’s little brother. The famous detective. Heard you ran into a bit of trouble with an intruder a few days back.”

“Yes, I did. Judging by your line of work, I’m guessing you can tell me where I can find her.”

“Hold up - my line of work?” Jack asks. “Is this gonna be one of your famous deductions? Don’t hold back, man, I wanna hear this.”

Sherlock sighs. “Your clothes are all new brand, but worn away more than usual. You do a lot of physical activity, but you don’t wear sports clothes for it, so it’s probably some part of your work rather than a hobby. You’re fit, but not tanned at all; so whatever you’re doing is either indoors or at night. Also, there’s the dead giveaway. That gun in your jacket is impossible to buy if you aren’t some kind of military special operation; it’s only held by the most senior of army officers. Physical activity at night as part of the job, specialised gun and, of course, the same clearance as my brother in the military government; it’s a dead ringer for a special operations unit of some kind, probably dealing in coverups and almost always the first on the scene when something ‘unexplainable’ happens. Am I right?”

Jack leans back in his seat. “Spot on.” _This guy’s good._

“Huh. I usually get _something_ wrong. Today must be a good one.” Sherlock sits forward in his chair. “So. The girl. Tell me.”

“Her name is Miss Rose Lalonde, but you won’t find any data on her, online or off. You can find her at this address, if you’re lucky. If not, you’ll find an arrest warrant waiting for you instead.” Jack scribbles down a street name on his napkin and hands in to the detective. “Take your soldier boyfriend with you - it’s a pretty military operation out there.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure he’s not.” Jack gets up. “I gotta run. See you round, Mr Holmes.” He turns on his heel and strides off before Sherlock can say another word. _Best let him figure things out on his own._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *to the tune of the putin song* i am ace ace ace  
> i can't write flirting  
> i am super super ace  
> this relationship is going nowhere  
> so don't get your hopes up guys because this is just Jack being Jack and me not knowing how to write any of this ugh jesus christ  
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, and never forget that if my writing style is weird or if i stuff up in some obvious way, you should 100% tell me because I am here to learn.  
> See you all next chapter!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	11. Guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author ever-so-subtly expresses her utmost contempt towards American gun laws

==> The Doctor: Get dragged onto the Valiant, and complain loudly

That is EXACTLY his plan. 

Well, not the ‘getting semi-kidnapped by the military’ part, but definitely the ‘complaining’ part.

“Get that gun out of my face, I’m not a criminal,” he says as he walks up the ramp to the ship, flanked by two UNIT guards.

“Sorry, sir, this is a precaution, sir.”

“A precaution for _what?”_

“UNIT soldiers are trained to be prepared for any event, sir.”

“Yeah? Well, me attacking your base right now isn’t one of them. Put the gun _down,_ for god’s sake.” He pushes the barrel down with two fingers and continues walking. The soldier gives up and holds the gun by his side. 

“So when exactly did UNIT get the funds for this thing?”

“We benefited from the financial crash of 2010, sir. The change in economy worked in our favour.”

“How the _hell_ did any part of that debacle work in your favour?”

“Classified, sir.”

“You caused it, didn’t you.”

 _“Classified,_ sir.”

“You know, I’m really starting to question your methods.”

“Question us all you like, Doctor, but the fact remains that you’ve agreed to help us, and help us you will.” General Magumbo calls from the door of the ship. “With the tech on your TARDIS and your knowledge of off-world technology, we’ll be able to finish this whole mess a lot faster than usual, and any reason to reduce time spent in _America_ is a positive in my book.”

“What’s wrong with America?”

“They still haven’t abolished civilian gun ownership.”

“You’re all pointing guns at me right now.”

“We know how to use them.”

The Doctor nods. “Fair point.”

 

==> Be Rose Lalonde

 _Finally._ You haven’t been Rose in _ages._

You and Dave, quite frankly, are getting rather bored of all the tests they’re running here. The interviews are taking up several hours of your time each day.

At least they’re giving you free time together, which is nice. There isn’t much to do, though, and since neither you nor Dave have told them about your sylladeces, sparring matches, time jumps and magic are all off-limits for now. Plus, you don’t want to risk breaking out of this place when Jade and John could show up any day now.

The scientists - specifically, Charlotte Osgood and Jane-Marie Smith - are taking you tomorrow to an open field so you can show off your ‘magic’. They’re nice, for nosy scientists trying to unravel the secrets of your life.

You often have lunch with the other Rose, when she isn’t busy doing some sort of UNIT-related intelligence-gathering. From what Dave’s told you, she and the Doctor are time-travellers, so it wouldn’t be too absurd to assume she’s helping them synchronise timelines. They’d probably have a lot to catch up on. You wouldn’t exactly say you appreciate the peace and quiet when she isn’t around, though. Her loud, cockney accent is a nice addition to the quiet muttering you and your brother generally exchange.

Honestly, it’s rather boring being Rose Lalonde, and you can foresee that it will be rather boring for a while. Let’s get back to the action, shall we?

 

==> Observe Sam Winchester

Sam and Dean Winchester have been getting restless.

Sure, the training and sparring and just general chilling are brilliant, and they’ve learned heaps already, and of course they’re curious when it comes to freaking _aliens_ teleporting out of nowhere - but they miss being on the road, in the same way a soldier might miss their gruelling training regimes, or an elite athlete their twice-daily exercise timetable. They’ve never been fitter, and yet they feel _out of shape._

It had been Sam’s idea to request temporary leave - apparently they need to request it now, because technically they’d done “agent” training - to go on a few hunts. SHIELD had happily agreed, on the condition that they took an agent with them to learn more about what they dealt with. _We never miss an opportunity to analyse possible threats and allies,_ Fury had said.

And that’s how it came to be that the brothers are driving out of New York City with Agent Natasha Romanov in the back seat. She’d handed over a card of her skills and as Sam reads it now he can see that not only is the a world-class fighter, she’s fluent in seven languages, including Ancient Latin. Apparently that’s the main reason she’s here; none of the other SHIELD workers have such extensive linguistic training.

Dean had tried flirting with her when she first arrived, but she’d threatened - in both Russian and English - to break his hand.

_This should be interesting._

 

==> Observe Hiemdall

It’s about two in the morning, Midgard-time, when Hiemdall notices a disturbance.

The image in his mind of Earth, when still clear enough to see, has begun to… _ripple._ It waves in and out of focus with an intensity that troubles him. Worried, he reaches out to Thor, the only Asgardian in the realm.

Then, everything goes black. 

Hiemdall’s image of Midgard is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a filler chapter - I needed to check in with a couple of characters and the other chapters are grouped into separate sections, to this is a mashup of everything that's happening in the meantime. Next chapter will be better, I promise.  
> And no, I'm not joking about the guns - I live in a nation were we abolished almost all guns in 1996, and since then we haven't had one mass shooting. At all.  
> It's a very passionate subject for me.  
> Comments and kudos are always welcome, and to those who've left either or both already, thank you!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	12. Strife!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the UNIT and SHIELD finally clash for the first time
> 
> How has it taken me 26 chapters to get here, what am I doing with my life

==> Observe Director Fury

Stark gets all the fun.

Fury grumbles as he rewatches newsreel footage of “Iron Man and Two Unidentified Individuals” as they soar across New York.

No doubt they’ll have reporters on their doorstep by tomorrow morning.

Fury’s still watching the newscast when a sudden alert banner rolls across his screen. _Incoming air vessel,_ it reads. _Possibly hostile. No communication has yet been made._ The Director sweeps his hand across the screen to roll out the emergency display and presses the microphone. “I need an audio-video link patched through to that ship ASAP,” he says before hanging up. In front of him, dimensions of the ship scroll past in a seemingly-unending banner. _Length: 508m. Width: 372m. Estimated Crew: 60. Alliance: Unknown._

“Better not call in any Avengers at this point,” he announces. “I want ground-based weapons within ten miles of the city prepped and aimed if this thing gets within 25 miles of Stark Tower.”

 _Avengers Tower,_ he silently reprimands himself, but shrugs it off. It’s not like Stark’s ego can swell any further.

 

==> Observe General Magumbo

General Magumbo is standing on the bridge of the HMS Valiant, staring out at the fast-approaching city. Behind her, teams of diplomats and scientists work to prepare for landing.

The flight deck of the Valiant isn’t designed for comfort - the lavish furniture and soft lights are reserved for upstairs, where it’s hoped political meetings will one day be held. With the limited data they have on the forgotten Saxon Affair, however, she knows this might never be possible.

“Ma’am!” One of the diplomats, a young man whose name escapes her, runs up to report. “We’ve sent out a general alert message to all local army and police bases; anything running off the military communication system.”

“Any response?”

“They’re having some trouble getting back to us, ma’am. The only response is static so far, but this might just be because we’re still quite far out of range.”

“How confident are we that the message got through?”

“All reports point to it having been delivered, ma’am.”

 

==> Fury: Try to make contact with the approaching air vessel

Well, he’s trying, so that’s a start, but he can’t get a video feed working. He presses the microphone for the third time and repeats his message.

“Unidentified Aircraft 001, this is Director Fury of the US Army Intelligence Unit. We request that you halt your advance, I repeat, halt your advance immediately. We will not tolerate any movement within 20 miles of our city centre. Failure to comply with our requests will result in hostile action against you. Over.”

He waits for several minutes, but the only response is static. Sighing, he types a quick message out to the command units nearby. _This vessel is refusing to communicate. I want all local weapons trained on it and ready to fire on my order._

Twice more. He’ll send this message twice more, and that will be it. He presses the microphone again. “Unidentified Aircraft 001, this is Director Fury of the US Army Intelligence Unit. We request that you halt your advance, I repeat, halt your advance…”

 

==> General Magumbo: Ask a question relevant to the plot

“Still no response from the ground?”

“None, ma’am.”

“Continue on, then. If they mean to attack, it’s against international law that they wouldn’t give us warning.”

 

==> Be John Egbert

Sure thing!

At this point in time, you are being John Egbert reasonably far away from New York, in a training lab near Tony’s house. 

(the walls of the lab are lined with Iron Man suits and it is _so cool)_

Yesterday Fury bumped your clearance up a level, and Tony says he’s going to teach you and Jade all sorts of cool military stuff that SHIELD’s been up to, which is why you’re all seated in front of a huge plasma screen imbedded into the wall.

(Tony also says you can meet Captain America and Hawkeye sometime soon over video chat, because they’re doing something really top secret at the moment but they’re gonna be on a secure line sometime next week. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely thrilled.)

On the plasma screen right now is a series of plans for the helicarrier, including some awesome promotional video clips. You’re now officially allowed to be told that it’s kept in a landing base at New Mexico usually, but right now is somewhere out in the Pacific for a test flight.

“So do you have any blueprints for this thing?” Jade’s asking, and you’re only half listening because _look at those giant sideways jet engines,_ but Tony replies with a pretty happy affirmative and pulls a series of huge blue sheets out of a drawer in the wall. The two nerds are discussing the papers eagerly when a red warning light starts to flash in the corner of the screen.

“Uh, guys?” you ask, and Tony looks up.

“Fury!” he grins jovially as the Director’s face expands onto the screen. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got a situation in New York. Don’t fly in - we don’t know what these guys want. Stay where you are and wait for further contact.” Fury pressed a button and the screen went black.

“Well.” Jade said. “That sounds worrying.”

Observe Director Fury

Fury sits tense in front of his screen, watching the vessel approach. He’s sent at least ten messages in the last few minutes, all without reply.

The red button at the corner of the screen, the one marked “Fire at Target”, is glowing angrily.

Thirty more seconds. Thirty more seconds, and then he’ll have to call it.

Observe General Magumbo

General Magumbo is still standing at the bridge when the first missiles hit.

Warning lights blare confusing signals as the floor rocks beneath her and she grabs onto a nearby railing for support. “Report!” She barks, and flight engineers scurry to respond.

“Three short-range land-based missiles, hit us on our left rear engine. Flight is still stable. Looks like the missiles were fired from a military base about a mile south.”

“Should we return fire, ma’am?”

Magumbo hesitates. “One warning shot at the nearest base, and I want us to start moving out of the city.”

Within ten more minutes, the _Valiant_ is on the retreat, and Magumbo’s already planned out her next three days of research into what the hell America just hit them with.

 

==> Be Jade Harley

As Jade Harley, you’re always slightly disappointed when you miss out on any kind of action, and now is no exception. 

You were all for speeding off to New York against orders to see whatever the hell was happening, and to be honest so were Tony and John. It was Miss Potts that stopped you by locking the door that exited the media room and telling Tony via telecom that she wouldn’t speak to him for a week if he blasted a hole in the wall. After that, you all just sat around for a while. Sure, you could have teleported out on your own, but to be honest you were sort of worried about what Miss Potts might have thought - or done - if you had gone through with it.

The all-clear signal is flashing on the screen now, and Miss Potts has just unlocked the door. It swings open and you all see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Any burn marks I should know about?” She asks.

“Nothing.” Tony says. “I promise,” he adds when she raises an eyebrow.

It takes all of ten minutes for Tony to put on his suit and all of twenty for the three of you to fly back to New York. Frankly, you think driving would be easier, but Tony had said flying was more fun, and you couldn’t really argue with that.

You arrive in time to see SHIELD in chaos. Interns are running this way and that, engineers calling out measurements that sound like they should be for some kind of cruise ship, except for the fact that most of them have “altitude of 700 feet” tacked onto the end. Fury approaches you with a look that you would think bordered on relief if you didn’t know better. Instead, you’re fairly sure it’s more along the lines of irritation. 

“No major damage to the city,” he says, “but they took out one of our missile stations to the northwest.”

“Who were they?” Tony asks. His suit draws back from his face, packing itself away.

“No idea. Our communications were jammed the whole time and they’ve used some kind of cloaking mechanism to retreat; put short, we don’t even know what continent they’re from.”

Cloaking device, huh? “Do you have readings of the direction they were heading before they disappeared?” You ask a nearby engineer.

“Yes, and their speed; if they didn’t change course they should be headed offshore by now.”

“Can you give me coordinates? I want to try something.” The engineer starts to pull data up onto their screen, and you watch over their shoulder as they work.

“Miss Harley, you don’t have permission to ‘try’ _anything_ -“ Fury begins, but you cut him off when the coordinates come up on the screen.

32º43’22” West, 120º54’66” South. “Too late!” you grin, and vanish instantly.

You arrive about a foot off of the floor of a (thankfully deserted) unisex bathroom. You find the door and stick your head out into a sleek metal corridor. Pipes and wires run along the ceiling, occasionally branching off in various directions, but following an overall path that leads you on what your mind tells you to be at a bearing of north-north-east.

You follow the pipes for a while before coming across a door labelled “file room”. There’s a lock, but you solve that problem easily by disappearifying the side of the door and letting it swing open.

Inside, you find floor-to-ceiling filing cabinets - maintenance records for the ship, from the looks of it. Five minutes of browsing tell you that the ship is called the “Valiant”, it’s only been a year since it was “rebuilt” (though you can’t find what destroyed it the first time), and that its third left engine has been having trouble with its internal propellor.

You leave the room and continue down the hall. How long have you been here? Five minutes? Ten? You can feel the ship’s flight path - it’s headed towards Europe - but you know if you leave now you won’t be able to find the right coordinates again. At this speed, even teleporting within the ship is a risk.

You continue on, and the next door you open spells trouble.

Inside is standing a man in a leather jacket, who turns to look as you enter, and two serious-looking guards holding guns that your brain categorises as FAMAS rifles, used by the European military. 

“What the hell-?” one of the guards takes a step towards you, but you’re already closing the door. You bolt down the corridor. If you can just get away fast enough you should be able to keep exploring this ship for another-

A hand closes around your arm. _Great._ You disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO! Finally!
> 
> EDIT: yes, the first time around it did actually take me 26 chapters to reach this scene. Since then I've done a LOT of editing.


	13. Enrolments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock and John finally get in on the action, and Fury is missing part of his brain.
> 
> Writing goes surprisingly fast when you have a solid hour of work every morning and the ability to opt out of your school classes at any time.

==> Observe Rose Tyler

Rose Tyler is sitting down for lunch in the UNIT base cafeteria when Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson barge in. The first thing she notices is that it’s Doctor Watson who’s leading the way - _makes sense, he is ex-military -_ but the second is that they’re asking about Rose Lalonde.

A guard approaches them first and tells them hesitantly that they have to leave, but it turns out Doctor Watson outranks him and tells the guard in no uncertain terms that they’re here to see someone _actually_ worth talking to. The UNIT recruit slinks away with his tail between his legs. Doctor Watson looks almost pleased, and sets about trying to find someone to take him to whoever’s in charge.

It’s at this time that Sherlock Holmes spots Rose Tyler sitting with Charlotte and Jane-Marie. Without even nudging John to alert him, he makes a beeline for their table.

“You three.” He says when he reaches their table. “Scientists, or researchers of some kind, probably assigned to anomalies or strange occurrences, am I right?”

“That’s- um, that’s classified,” Charlotte tries, but Sherlock cuts her off.

“So I _am_ right. I need info.” He pulls up a chair. Doctor Watson shoots them a somewhat-apologetic look and follows suit. “I’m looking for Rose Lalonde, and I want to know how she did what she did in Times Square.”

“Look, I really don’t think-” Jane-Marie tries -

“Don’t care. How do I talk to whoever’s in charge?”

“Look, mate,” Rose butts in, “you’re gonna get yourself _arrested._ What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get out of here before the woman who _is_ in charge gets back. The security for this place is aggressive.”

Sherlock waves her off, looking sulkily at the table. 

“We don’t want to cause trouble,” John assures her, “we just want to know what’s going on. Miss Lalonde kind of blew up our apartment before she got herself taken in by you lot. We want to know how. Also, Sherlock can probably help if you’re interviewing her.”

“If he’s employed, he’s out of trouble.” Charlotte mutters. “If he isn’t, he’s arrested and charged, no questions asked. We should probably get him to HR to sort this out fast.”

“Okay.” Jane-Marie gets up. “Follow me.”

 

==> Observe General Magumbo

The comms patch through to a disgruntled security officer on the third deck, claiming to have seen a disappearing girl, and complaining that not only was a door down the hall partially missing, the Doctor won’t stop running tests on it.

“He’s presenting a security risk by staying outside of the allocated room, ma’am,” he says, and while technically true Magumbo knows that the guard doesn’t really believe what he’s saying - he just doesn’t what the extra effort of guarding a mobile target.

“Let him continue, Jones.” she says. “I want to know more about this disappearing girl; fill out a description report before we land and I’ll run it by our databases.”

One grumbled “yes ma’am” and the line switches off.

Three hours to London, and then she can finally get to work on whatever it is that America’s up to.

 

==> Observe Director Fury

The news is completely alive with reports of UFOs, and not only is that funny, it’s useful. For the time being, they can avoid having to address what that airship was to the media and not bother with the inevitable and irritating international talks that follow until they know exactly which country sent the ship.

Fury’s sent a message through the official military telling them of the threat status, and a second message (anonymously, through an army figurehead) to tell the press they were working on discovering the ship’s location. Meanwhile, the Director is overseeing about 100 highly-trained military personnel as they pinpoint every tiny detail about the vessel and its organisation as they can find. An interview with Miss Jade Harley has already shown the guns they were carrying were French, but that tells him very little other than that this was definitely a European military operation.

Stark’s sent JARVIS to do some hacking searches through what government databases it can find, and already the AI is starting to hit walls. They’re cracking the defences together in Stark’s lab, Jade on standby to provide whatever info she can and John generally making a mess of things while he hangs out with them.

—

It takes exactly 13 hours for Stark and JARVIS to pull every single piece of information they can out of the mangled databases of what SHIELD now knows to be the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, an organisation completely mind wiped from their collective memories.

Fury’s been rubbing his skull for hours, mulling over the fact that there are months, if not years of repressed memories hidden inside. Files indicate he was involved with several major missions in their American military division before they left the USA, and he can’t recall a single minute of it.

“Prep three jets, right now.” He orders. “I want to be in London by sundown.”

 

==> Observe Sherlock Holmes

When the dark-skinned woman in the sharp military uniform bursts into the room, the word _authority_ seems to be blasted right at him. Sherlock puts down his pen, having just finished signing the confidentiality papers, and stands up. John, behind him, salutes the woman, who nods before turing an angry gaze on Sherlock.

“What are _you_ doing here?” the Officer growls, and her accent tells him about her childhood. She turns her head and glares at Miss Smith, who mumbles something about an employment briefing, eyes averted.

Magumbo reaches out to pick up the stack of papers in front of Sherlock, and he learns that she’s been working in cold and relatively dark conditions for the past few weeks, if not months. She rifles through them and glares.

“Internship contract is signed,” Jane-Marie blurts. “They’re on our roster on a temporary basis. Three-week trial.”

“Is it in the system yet?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Damn.” Magumbo puts the files down. “Well, if I can’t get rid of you, you’ll be making yourself useful. Mr Holmes, we’ve got two subjects with some very interesting stories looking for a time-space rift, and no way of telling if they’re being truthful or withholding any information. You can aid with that.” She turns to John. “Meanwhile you, Mr Watson, can work with Miss Rose Tyler, another tagalong stray-“ - here she pauses to give a look of irritation - “-and help us on a few diplomacy meetings. I believe you have real war experience. That should come in handy; most of our officers, while well trained, have never done much more than security detail and airship manoeuvres.” She turns on her heel and strides out of the room. “Interviews with our subjects start tomorrow at 900 hours, Mr Holmes. Mr Watson, come with me now.”

Sherlock turns, surprised, to look at John, but the shorter man is already moving past him. “Sorry,” John mouths as he leaves. “See you later.” A moment of silence follows in the office as the two remaining occupants of the room listen to the fast-receding footfalls of General Magumbo.

“Well,” Jane-Marie says, “that went better than expected. I’ll show you out. Come back to this address tomorrow at about 8; Magumbo often runs a bit… overefficient.”

The walk back to the outside takes minutes, and at the back door, Miss Smith waits to wave him off. “Remember, you signed those confidentiality forms,” she says. “Don’t tell a soul where you’re working, or they’ll mind wipe you, John, _and_ all of your acquaintances to be safe. Yes, they can do that,” she adds at his raised eyebrow. “I’ve seen it before, and it leaves your brain properly scrambled for about a week. Now get home, and don’t forget - back here at 8!”

—

John arrives back at 221B at around 11 that evening. He doesn’t offer discussion, and Sherlock doesn’t ask where he’s been. Collapsed on the sofa, the sociopath falls asleep to the sound of his flatmate making tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to move the story along a bit faster, but there are just so many situations to check in with it's becoming difficult. Hopefully that'll become less of a problem when I bring everyone in together.  
> I also made a quick edit to previous chapters, just to adjust for some future plot points I changed - Bruce Banner isn't with Hawkeye and Cap, he's at his house a few hours drive away from New York, and Dave and Rose haven't been forbidden from using their sylladeces but are actually hiding them so they have backup weapons in case anything happens.  
> Kudos and comments are always welcome, and a big thank you to all those who've been following this story thus far!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	14. Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, I am writing these fast.

==> Observe Tony Stark

“Listen, I _have_ to go on this thing, Fury,” he says. “That was a _giant flying airship -_ bigger than ours! I gotta know what other tech they have.”

“Mister Stark,” Fury looks at him and Tony knows he’s about to get a verbal beatdown, “this is a diplomatic mission for _trained professionals only._ That’s me, Agent Hill, and about five others. Not you.”

“But Fury, it would be _so cool_ if I could-“

“No. Final say.” Fury sighs. “Our party will return in the next two days unless otherwise indicated, and we’ll keep in contact. We’ve given Miss Potts a communication link.” He walks as he speaks and soon they’re outside the building to where a private jet is waiting, engines on standby. Tony watches as Fury and a group of SHIELD agents boards the plane, but then catches sight of a flash of sky-blue and black in the window.

“Wait a minute!” He yells as Fury goes through the door to the cabin, “the _kids_ are going? _The kids are going? Fury, what the-“_ and then the door’s closed and Tony’s shouts are drowned out by the whirring of the engines. The jet races off the runway and into the air, and he can just make out John’s face looking out the window as they take off. He’s mouthing something. Tony thinks it might be _sorry._

 

==> Observe John Watson

John Watson has just arrived for his first day of internship at the world’s largest secret military force when a jet lands on UNIT’s private runway and a man with an eyepatch steps out, followed by seven sharply-dressed people in formation and two rather lost-looking, if excited, teenagers. 

The ex-army doctor makes his way to Magumbo’s office to find her swearing vulgarly and looking at a computer screen, on which can be seen security footage of a waiting room where the eyepatched man is drinking coffee.

Rose Tyler, Magumbo’s other “stray”, is standing in the corner. John goes to join her. “You’re just in time,” she whispers to him. “Magumbo’s about to go in and talk to this guy. We’ll be watching through the security cams, I think.” As she speaks, Magumbo’s sharp swearing increases in volume, until suddenly it stops. The general stands bolt upright, straightens her jacket and her hair, and suddenly leaves the room. When she next reappears, it’s on the computer screen.

The discussions are long and filled with references to events John has no knowledge of, but he thinks he’s keeping up with it fine. They’re talking about the UFO event in New York just two days ago. Eyepatch guy is… blaming Magumbo?

“We didn’t have anything to do with the New York UFO the other day, right?” John hisses to Rose, but the answer he gets back was not the “no” he was expecting.

“Actually, that was Magumbo and her team. They say it was a misunderstanding. I guess this is the diplomacy bit.”

As John looks back on the screen he can see the man with the eyepatch is raising his voice. He looks irate. “Fury, calm down,” Magumbo says, and the war doctor chuckles at the apt name.

“What’s so funny?” Comes a voice from behind him and he turns quickly. There’s a man standing in the room in a leather jacket, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, Doctor,” Rose says. “We’re just watching diplomacy in action.” She points to the screen, where Fury has now stood up and is yelling, full-pace, at Magumbo.

“UGh, those two are never going to get anything done like that.” the Doctor, whatever his name is, shakes his head. “Hold on. I’m gonna go in and see if I can speed things up a bit. You stay here,” he points to Rose, “and- I’m sorry, what was your name?” he asks you.

“Um- John. John Watson.”

“Nice to meet ya, John Watson, I’m the Doctor.” his grin gets wider.

“Just ‘the-‘“

“Yep, just ‘the Doctor’,” Rose butts in. “Don’t even ask,” she mutters, “you won’t get a straight answer anyway.”

John goes to say something else to the Doctor, but before he can the man is out of the room and appearing on the security images.

“This should be fun,” Rose mutters, and the two of them watch as the man in the leather jacket puts the two military officials in their place.

—

“So who is this ‘Doctor’, though?” John asks an hour later, sitting back in his swivel chair and turning his eyes away from the screen to look at Rose. “Is he military?”

Rose scoffs around her mouthful of Cheese Twists. “Oh, god no.” She tells him. “He hates all this army stuff. He’s only here because of Dave. That and UNIT kind of commandeered our spaceship.” she makes gestures with her powder-coated fingers as she talks.

“Spaceship?”

“Yeah…” Rose looks awkward. “The Doctor’s better at explaining it, but basically he’s a time traveller. He’s got this thing called the TARDIS that travels in time and space, it’s super high-tech. Well, alien tech, actually, but whatever.”

“I’ll put ‘alien tech’ on hold for now.” John says. “You travel with him?”

“I just tag along for the ride, basically.”

“And who’s Dave?”

“Right, so about a week ago this kid just randomly showed up in the control room on the TARDIS, like no warning or anything. Nothing’s supposed to teleport in, so obviously we were curious, and then he was asking about his sister - you were the ones that met Rose, right?” At John’s nod he continues. “Well anyway, we saw the scene she made and went to UNIT to talk to her.”

“How’d you know she’d be at UNIT?”

“The Doctor is a time-travelling immortal alien. He just knows stuff like this.”

John nods. _Time-travelling immortal alien._ Sherlock would have a fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW, I KNOW, I'M SLOW. Sorry guys.  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	15. Portals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it didn't break the style of chapter titles I've been running with, I would TOTALLY have called this "now you're thinking with portals".

==> Be Thor Odinson

Worry is not an emotion that you’re accustomed to feeling, at least not about anything other than your little brother, but this appears to be an exception to that rule.

You call again. “Hiemdall! Hiemdall, can you hear me?”

No response. Not even a flicker of movement to signal that the Allseer’s registered your shouts.

You try again. You stamp your feet, wave your hammer, make as much noise as possible to try to get his attention.

Nothing.

The Bifrost is down. The Bifrost is completely down, and you have no contact with Hiemdall whatsoever. 

_What’s going on?_

 

==> Observe Tony Stark

It’s about six in the morning when Thor bursts into his lab, and Tony is jolted out of his exhausted sleep by a huge hand shaking his shoulder.

“Man of Iron, wake up. _Tony,”_ Thor hisses. “I need your help.”

—

Taking readings worldwide, Tony can only find one change in the Earth’s electromagnetic field. 

The portal that opened during the battle of New York, and the one that John and Jade seemingly fell through when they arrived on Earth, is growing. Fast. At the rate this is happening, it could be more than a mile in diameter by the end of the week.

“We need Fury’s advice,” he says, “and a second scientific opinion. Let’s get Banner in here.”

“Should we then call Miss Romanov?” Thor asks. “She knows where to find him, does she not?”

“Good idea. JARVIS, you got that? I need calls to Fury and Romanov, ASAP.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS’ voice echoes through the screens in the room. “Shall I patch Fury a video link?”

“Do it.” Tony offers Thor a seat as the screen in front of his desk lights up and the words “call pending” flash across the screen.

 

==> Observe Natasha Romanov

The ghost - or wraith, or whatever it is - is flying right at her.

The “spirit” the Winchester brothers have chosen to track is an eerie thing, all moth-eaten suits and shadows, and though it’s taken almost three days to hunt it down, she’s found that time moves incredibly quickly when you’re intensely fixated on your goal.

It isn’t that dissimilar to agent work, really, with all the information-gathering and interviews under false pretences. 

What differs is the fight at the end. She’s never used salt as a weapon before.

She holds up her pistol and fires, one, two, three rounds. The wraith slows, but doesn’t stop until Dean joins in with his rifle. The thing evaporates.

“Is that it?” Natasha asks, but the brothers shake their heads.

“We need to find whatever was keeping it here and burn it. That way it has nothing to hold on to and it’ll disappear properly.” Sam starts moving to the car. “Let’s try the graveyard. That’s usually an easy clue.”

The three of them jump into the car. The night is pitch black - Natasha guesses it must be around one in the morning. 

“Let’s get this done quick.” Dean says. “I saw a 24-hour diner back there that’s calling my name.”

—

Well at least now she can add “experienced ghost hunter” to her resume.

The diner’s food is good, but not great, and Natasha is picking her way through the mashed potatoes when she gets a text from JARVIS.

_Banner needed to help with some scientific work. Can you find him?_

She’d lose too much time going back for a bike or a car from SHIELD - looks like this’ll be on public transport. She shoots back a quick response and speaks up. “Hey, can you guys drop me off at the next Greyhound station on the way back?”

“Why?”

“Gotta pay a visit. I’ll be back in New York in a day or two, I’ll see you there.”

“Dude, Greyhounds suck. We’ll just give you a lift. Is it far?”

Natasha thinks about what Bruce would say to having two gun-toting ghost-hunters in his house. He probably wouldn’t take to it too well. But then, it _would_ be more efficient if they all just went together. She decides to take that risk. 

“No, not that far. Is a lift okay?”

“No problem, sweetheart.” Dean says, and Natasha glares. 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

==> Be Dave Strider

Wise choice.

You are Dave Strider, and the guy in the trench coat is unnervingly perceptive.

Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes is sitting across a table from you in a cold grey interview room. There’s a camera in the corner, and the door is mostly glass. The wall to your left is in need of a fresh coat of paint.

“I-” you start, but the man cuts no off.

“Nope, lying. Try again.”

You bristle. “Look, mate, will you stop-”

“No, I won’t. I was sent in here to find out what you know. It’s been three minutes and already I’ve learned a lot, but I’m not going to get that far unless you tell the truth.”

You glare. He leans forward. “Are your eyes red?” He asks, and you immediately draw back.

“None of your business.”

Sherlock Holmes looks unimpressed, and you get the feeling this is going to be a long interview.

—

“Okay, _assuming_ that you’re not lying or hallucinating, and I for one am absolutely sure that you are, how did you even survive a situation like that?” he asks.

“Um… not really sure, to be honest.” you reply. “Most of it’s kind of a blur.”

He looks right at you. “What are you hiding? Weapons? Information?”

“Nothing.” _Keep your cool. Don’t let him know about your sylladex. Don’t let him know about the strife specious. Don’t let him-_

Sherlock Holmes lunges forwards and you react on instinct, grabbing Caledwbylf from your sylladex and holding it between you and him. You immediately realise your mistake and put the sword back into the sylladex card, but it’s too late. The detective is smiling.

“Gotcha.”

As you walk out the door, turning your back on the smug detective, you pass by Rose on her way in. 

“Give him hell,” you mutter.

 

==> Observe Tony Stark

The call to Fury’s phone patches through quickly to a woman’s face.

“This is General Magumbo, head of military operations in the Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” she introduces herself, and in the background they hear yelling.

“Magumbo, that is  _private property-“_ Fury’s voice threatens, but the General cuts him off.

“My military base, my rules, Director.” She turns her attention back to Tony and Thor. “Mr Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh, likewise,” Tony stutters, “But I’d really like to know what’s going on here. Where’s Fury? What happened to ‘diplomatic talks with the organisation that wiped our brains’?”

Fury’s face forces his way on screen. “General Magumbo heads up the military sector of UNIT. We're waiting on the head of operations, but peace talks are in progress now- or they  _would be,_ if I could just  _get my phone back-“_ he snatches the phone away from Magumbo and they hear a gun’s safety click.

“Enough with the guns, for god’s sake.” they hear a third annoyed voice.

“Look, was there something you called for?” Fury asks.

“The Bifrost isn’t working.” Thor immediately tells him. “And the rift over New York is growing in size.”

“I’ve got Banner on his way in now to help me out with this, but we wanted to know what else you want us doing.” Tony explains.

“For now, leave it at that. Call me if anything changes,” Fury replies, and then the screen goes black.

“Magumbo seemed nice.”

 

==> Observe Bruce Banner

Bruce Banner is not comfortable having two men with guns in his house.

Not that Natasha isn’t always armed, and not that they can actually hurt him, but he knows Natasha and he doesn’t ever like the idea of violence.

He asks them to leave the firearms in the car, so they open up the trunk to reveal a huge arsenal of rifles and shotguns, adding their pistols to the lot and locking the vehicle back up.

Somehow, that isn’t very comforting.

Natasha doesn’t know what Tony’s up to, just that he "needs his scientific opinion". “As far as I can tell, it shouldn’t be more than a few days,” she says, “and if it isn’t we can come back here and pick up supplies for you.”

Stark doesn’t call him very often; he knows Bruce likes a quiet life. This must be something really intriguing.

“Okay,” he agrees, “I’d be happy to.”

The ride back in the weapon-filled car is awkward, to say the least.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Australia Day was yesterday, so for all those Aussies who celebrated it, I hope you had an awesome day!  
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I've had a bit of a block in writing recently but I think I'm moving past it now. Don't let me write professionally, I'd never meet my deadlines.  
> As always, kudos and comments are really appreciated, and I want to thank everyone who's stuck with the story so far!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	16. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane-Marie Smith is basically the only OC I have in this story. She is also, coincidentally, my favourite character.

 

 ==> Observe the Doctor

As Fury turns off his phone and puts it in his pocket, the Doctor just has to ask.

“What that Tony Stark? As in, _the Tony Stark?_ Greatest robotic mind this side of the 1950s? Inventor of the Iron Man suit? President of- no, wait, not that one yet.”

Fury looks at him oddly. Oops.

“Right, you two,” he launches back into the conversation, “where were we?”

“Peace talks,” Fury says, at the same time as Magumbo replies, “business partnerships.” They look at each other. “That works too.”

“Right. So can I leave the two _little children_ alone to play for a bit, or will you pull out the nuclear weapons while I’m gone?”

Magumbo grumbles. “We’ll be fine.” she says, glaring. “I don't have enough authority to finalise anything until Kate Lethbridge-Stewart arrives anyway. She’ll help us with the official processes.”

The Doctor nods. “Good. I’m off to talk to Dave. Good luck!”

As he walks out the door, he hears a brief exchange between the two representatives.

“Who’s Dave?”

“Classified.”

—

The Doctor picks up Rose and John as he passes. They’d set up their chairs with snacks and turned out the lights to watch the security footage like a movie. There are popcorn crumbs everywhere.

“Who was that on Director Fury’s phone? Stark who?” Rose asks, mouth full of sweets.

“Tony Stark, weapons genius.”

“Saw him on the telly just last week.” John interjects. “He’s all over the news these days, how do you not know him?”

Rose waves her hand dismissively. “Time travel, you tend to skip things.”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow. Clearly Rose has spent some time giving out explanations.

“You’re off to talk to Dave, right?” Rose asks him and he nods.

“Want to come with?”

“Sure.” She pushes herself up from her swivel chair and gestures for John to follow them. “You going too?”

He nods and follows.

Usually, the Doctor would have an issue with any military personnel, but John seems to be among the few exceptions. The guy was a medic on the front lines, and now works with the arrogant genius the Timelord saw strutting into the building that morning. He’s quick to understand situations, witty, and polite. The perfect companion, honestly. No wonder he and Rose get along so well.

Dave is behind the one-way glass outside the interview room, glaring in at Sherlock and Rose Lalonde sitting opposite one another at the table inside. The height distance between them is striking; even sitting down, Sherlock is half a head taller than the young god-tiered teen; but she looks so darkly threatening at that point that it doesn’t seem to matter. She’s speaking fast. Sherlock doesn’t seem to be reacting at all.

“What’s going on in there?” the Doctor asks, curious. Dave smirks and flicks the switch to the microphone.

“-and you take drugs, don’t you? You take drugs and you don’t want your brother - no your flatmate - to know. What is it, opium, cannabis? Methamphetamines, I’m not surprised. You like the people you work with but you’re scared to tell them because you know that if you do that makes them able to reject you. You hate the food you eat for dinner almost every night but you never complain - I’m guessing that’s your flatmate again, isn’t it? Am I right?” Rose’s glare looks like it could bore a hole through concrete. Sherlock looks stunned. The Doctor suddenly feels incredibly awkward for John.

Dave flicks the microphone switch back off. “She’s been doing that for about five minutes non-stop so far. He pried too far into our family history.”

“Is anyone going to stop her?” the Doctor hears John ask. “She is _way_ out of line-“

“-she’ll burn herself out soon,” Dave replies. “The second she does, I think we’re off for military examinations, so I might have to head off then.”

“Why military examinations?” Rose asks.

“The douchebag in there kind of pretended to attack me and I may or may not have revealed that Rose and I still have weapons on us.”

The Doctor’s silent. He’d forgotten about the sylladeces of Sburb players - of course the two of them would have had resources at their disposal.

They wait for a few more minutes until Rose Lalonde eventually burns herself out in the interview room and Sherlock snaps out of his state off shock long enough to call an end to the session. Rose moves into the observation room. “That was fun,” she tells Dave, deadpan. He high-fives her.

A guard appears to speak to Sherlock briefly before coming into the observation room and glaring at the two teens. “Miss Smith will be wanting to see you.” He says angrily. “Immediately.”

As the god-tier kids leave, Dave waves a goodbye to the Doctor. “Now that the cat’s out the bag, I can challenge you to a time-travel race,” he says. 

The Timelord grins. “Can’t wait.”

 

==> Observe Director Fury

They’ve hammered out a deal of sorts in information-sharing, and are now on pretty good terms. More or less. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart called ahead to order them to compare notes on the New York rift, and it turns out UNIT has quite a bit to catch up on compared to SHIELD's intelligence.

“Well if you’d let us take the readings we needed to instead of blasting our ship…” Magumbo grumbles, but he cuts her off quickly.

“Misunderstanding. We’ve been over this.” He sits up straighter in his chair. “We had two people, teenagers, appear in association with the rift about a month ago. Both of them have shown abilities that they say were from a separate dimension. If you want to learn quickly, we have data Mr Stark took of them that might yield insight.”

Magumbo, to say the least, looks a bit shocked. She unclips a radio from her hip and speaks into it.

“Private Bardsley, I need to see Miss Lalonde and Mister Strider as soon as possible. Bring Miss Smith too, if she’s with them.” She turns the device back off and looks at Fury. “It appears we have something in common.”

 

==> Be Dave Strider

Your name is Dave Strider and _man_ are you in some shit right now.

Turns out not telling a huge military organisation about your secret physics-defying hoard of weapons and gadgets wasn’t exactly the best idea in the world.

“After _all the work we put in, all the hours, all the equipment we had to use to get a read on those freaking knitting needles, and you were hiding information from us - this - whole - time?”_

Awkward. You shrug. Rose looks at her ballet-slipper-clad feet. Jane-Marie Smith throws her hands into the air and gives a frustrated groan, but almost immediately, she snaps out of it and straightens her lab coat.

“What have you got hidden?” she asks with a glare. “Drop it. Now.”

You look at your echo sister and shrug again before dropping everything in your sylladex. It lands in a ring around you. Puppets, katanas, your turntables, and the Sord, which immediately begins to glitch out the environment around it. Static fills the air, and you snatch the terribly-drawn weapon back into your sylladex cards before it does any damage. Rose follows suit and a half-dozen heavy books drop out of the air and land with a _thunk_ around her. They’re followed by two more sets of wands, a knitting set, and a black-and-purple dress. Miss Smith looks ready to blast you both with some kind of science ray. She addresses Rose first.

“Are those _more weapons?”_ she hisses. Rose meets her eye briefly and nods.

“I think the fact that I didn’t even attempt to use them should count toward my good character.” She replies.

 _“I think the fact you didn’t attempt to use them is the only thing keeping me from calling half a squadron over here.”_ You’ve never seen the scientist so angry. “Dave. What are those?” She points at the katanas.

“Um… swords?”

“Swords.” Miss Smith pinches the bridge of her nose, dislodging her glasses. “I’ve been doing scientific research on a pair of teenagers armed to the teeth with swords and weapons of mass destruction, and I treated you like you were unarmed.” She takes a shaky breath. “Magumbo will have my head.”

It’s at that exact moment that a guard runs into the lab. “Magumbo wants to see you,” he says, out of breath.  “Miss Lalonde and Mister Strider are to come too.”

“Thank you, Bardsley,” Miss Smith says. She looks nervous. “You two, follow me.” 

The three of you leave the lab and you get a sinking feeling that tells you that whatever shit you though you were in, it’s a kiddy pool compared to the Olympic-sized mess you’re probably going to face now.

 

==> John and Jade: Go exploring

Your name is John Egbert and _man_ this place is cool.

Getting off the plane had been a series of official processes that had gotten very old very quickly, and it hadn’t been long before you and Jade had taken a step back and just… disappeared.

The two of you have reformed in a service corridor halfway across the base, giggling madly.

“Where are we?” Jade asks, and you shake your head to show you have absolutely no idea. There’s a door along the hall to your right, and you step over to open it.

The doorway leads on to a huge air hangar the size of a football field, filled almost entirely with the giant airship you last saw hovering over New York. It looks like it’s under repairs. Around one of its engines a team of blue-clad engineers are using cherrypickers to reach the hull of the ship.

“Hey!” A voice yells, and you turn to see one of the engineers walking towards you. “What are you two doing here? This is off-limits to non-military personnel!”

Dang. “Where to?” you ask Jade.

“North?” She suggests, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

“See you there.” 

You dissolve into the air and start moving, continuing until you find a space big enough to stand in. You materialise, Jade arriving with a _pop_ beside you-

And immediately crash into three figures hurrying the other way.

 

==> Be Rose Lalonde

Is that… Jade and John?

 

==> Be Jade Harley

Well you were not expecting to see Dave and Rose here. 

 

==> Be Dave Strider

You hope this’ll be enough of a distraction to get you out of trouble for hiding your sylladeces.

 

==> Be John Egbert

“I can’t believe it!”

 

==> Observe Janie-Marie Smith

There are suddenly two more teenagers and a lot of yelling in the hallway.

A blue-clad boy and a girl in a black dress are pulling Dave and Rose in for a group hug, and all of them are speaking at once. The language is technical, the slang is intense, and the speed is impossible to keep up with. Miss Smith can only tolerate it for half a minute before she has to pause the situation.

“Stop!” she orders, and the teens fall silent, looking at her. She addresses Dave and Rose first. “Who are they?”

“Our friends.” Rose says, at the same time Dave replies “Other Sburb players.”

“Hi!” the girl in the black dress holds her hand out. “I’m Jade, this is John. We’re here with SHIELD.”

That makes some decent sense. “What are you doing out here? Security will lose their minds if they find out you’ve been wandering the building.”

“We kind of… went exploring?” The boy in blue - John - rubs the back of his neck. “Just to see what this place was like.”

“Well, your exploring stops now. I’m taking Dave and Rose to see General Magumbo, and unless I find a guard who can take you back to the waiting rooms, you’re coming with us.” Behind her, Dave mutters.

“Careful. They can both teleport.”

Neither Jade nor John look like they’re really in the mood to go against what she’s saying, though, and she doubts they’d want to leave their friends again after a reunion like that.

“Magumbo and Fury are in negotiations now. The office is this way.” Jane-Marie starts walking, and hears the others fall in behind her.

The sooner she drops this lot off, the sooner she can go to the canteen and bury herself in a cup of tea, a book, and some heavy-duty sleep medication.

 

==> Observe General Magumbo

Fury’s getting impatient.

“What do you mean they aren’t with the rest of the agents? Of course they’re not with me! I need them here, now! Find them!”

Turns out, his two portal kids, Jade and John, have wandered off. Magumbo’s got her hand on her radio, ready to set some personnel onto the matter, when Miss Smith barges through the door, followed by a multicoloured entourage of teenagers.

“Hi, Fury,” says a short boy in blue, waving awkwardly. Fury glares, and the kid puts his hand back down by his side.

“Right,” Magumbo says. “Thank you, Miss Smith. Director, I’m assuming these are your missing teenagers?” Fury nods. “Good. Now we can continue.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of International Fanworks Day, I present to you one extremely late piece of writing.  
> I quite liked this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it too! I feel like Rose (Lalonde) was maybe a bit out-of-character, but I just had to see Sherlock get a taste of his own medicine.  
> See you all next chapter!  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	17. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short as all hell i swear

 ==> Observe Tony Stark.

 

Did he say a mile-wide diameter in a week? Haha. He may have meant a day.

This portal is expanding much faster than Tony’s first predictions, and that speed itself is increasing in an exponential curve.

Banner arrived only a couple of hours ago and as Tony continues to take readings, hovering over New York in the Iron Man suit, the nuclear scientist is trying to make sense of them.

“We’ve got matter moving through this portal,” he announces. “Argon, Helium, Xenon… there are a few solids I can’t identify as well, all negatively charged at a pretty high level. Careful of static.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Tony spits out, narrowly dodging an arc of blue sparks reaching for his suit through the cloud of barely-visible dust. “I think I’d better get back to the ground. Let’s get a line Fury when I’m back in the lab.”

This definitely constitutes “something changing”.

 

==> Observe Director Fury

Only three minutes into the teens’ theories on what they think the portal is, and Fury’s videophone starts buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at the screen. “It’s Stark,” he announces. “Just give me a minute.” He swipes to the side and Tony, Bruce, and Thor all appear.

“Fury, we’ve got a situation.” Tony says. “The portal is growing faster and it’s started dropping charged material into the air.”

“We need you to give word to evacuate the city,” Bruce interrupts. “And if that other military setup you’re talking with has any decent scientists, we need them to help out over here.”

“I’ll send word to media outlets and army bases to get all civilians out of the city.” Fury replies. “Magumbo, I’m officially requesting the help of UNIT on behalf of SHIELD for scientific aid and possible emergency troops.”

“I’ll contact my superiors,” Magumbo nods, and pulls out her own phone, dialling quickly.

“Do you have any visual evidence? What can you see?” Fury asks, and Tony shakes his head.

“Not much except some of the dust it’s dropping. It’s reflecting X-rays and UV, though, so we know it’s there.”

“Hold on,” Bruce says, and leans forward to type out something on the keyboard. 

“Idea?”

“Yup. If we can set the scanners to fine-tune the rest of the spectrum, then maybe…” Ten more seconds of tapping and he grins. “We’ve got an image!” Almost immediately, his face drops. “Oh.”

“What? What is it?” Fury asks, and Stark mirrors the screen to him. A grainy, purple-tinted image appears, but it’s clear to see what the scanner has picked up. A huge asteroid belt encircling a series of planets stretches out across the round portal. Between them and that, however, float thousands upon thousands of technicolour bubbles, and in the middle of it all, a deep red starship headed straight for them.

 

==> Be Rose Lalonde

The night is chilled when the four of you get off the SHIELD plane and step onto the tarmac of the runway. The airport is completely empty; it looks like the evacuation was a success.

A team of chauffeurs takes your group to Stark Tower, where the Doctor and a group of UNIT scientists including Osgood and Jane-Marie all move to help in the analysis and countermeasures against the portal to the Medium. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart and General Magumbo join Fury in his office along with you and the other Sburb kids. They tell you to identify the ship. It’s not hard at all.

“The Condesce.” Jade replies immediately. “She’s an alien that has a history of conquering Earth. The ship is her Imperial warship, I think.”

“How much firepower does she have?”

“A lot.” You say. “She literally shoots lasers from her eyes, and she probably has half an army behind her at the moment.”

“Weak spots?”

You all look at each other.

“None, as far as we know.”

Magumbo takes a deep breath and starts pacing. “You’re sure? None at all?”

“Well, that pirate girl seemed to have a plan.” John says. “The one from the dream bubbles. Aranea. She was putting together an army-“ he stops for a second. “Oh yeah. The army.”

“What army?” Fury asks, confused.

“It was supposed to put, like, a crack in the medium? To help them navigate the dream bubbles and get Lord English’s attention. When I last talked to her she had something like two thousand people with her.”

“And when was that?”

“Maybe… Two weeks ago? I’m not sure.”

Fury puts a hand on the comms button and speaks into it. “I want you guys analysing for any kind of life in there aside from the ship,” he says, but then John cuts him off.

“Um, that might not work,” He says. “The army’s from the Furthest Ring, so they’re sort of like ghosts. I’m not sure they have life signs. I mean, they’re all really cold, like, no body heat or anything, and I don’t think they have a pulse. Maybe they’re made of something else?” 

He looks to you and you supply, “electrical signals. They’ll still have brain signatures and nervous systems up and running. If there’s enough in one place you could probably find them that way.”

“You got all that?” Fury asks the person on comms, and they reply with a quick “yes sir” before signing off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a shitload of schoolwork to do. Spent all of yesterday at the library. The library is my new best friend.  
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, please let me know! Kudos and comments are always hugely appreciated.  
> \- mysticalArchitect


	18. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author sucks at fish puns.

==> Observe Charlotte Osgood

The ship’s coming closer faster than she’d like, and Charlotte isn’t really sure what to do. The kids have given them info, sure, but frankly it hasn’t been much more than discouraging. No weak points, no chance of negotiation, no usable long-range weapons short of perhaps nuclear and she’s fairly sure they’ll want the city at least somewhat habitable after all this is over. 

That army the blue kid had mentioned looked like it could help, and scans had just come back saying they weren’t too far away from the entrance to the portal, but they had no means of contact short of actually going there and neither UNIT nor SHIELD had a craft that was up to that. “Nothing that could deal with the vacuum of space, anyway.” She patches over the vidcomms to Fury.

“I could go,” one of the kids, the girl with the dark hair, pipes up. “The air’s actually breathable in the medium, no vacuum.”

“Nuh uh,” Dave replies decidedly. “You’re the one with the space powers, you’re staying here. I’ll go.”

“You’re both idiots, and I’ll go.” the blue kid announces. A pause follows.

“You’ve got one hour and then I want you back here with an update,” Fury decides. John snaps him a mock salute and disperses into faintly blue-tinged gas, which moves upwards in a rapid stream through the portal and disappears. Even separated by the screen, Charlotte holds her breath.

The Director turns his attention back to the comms as Kate Lethbridge-Stewart addresses the scientists from her own team’s work in another part of the tower. “Any chance we can get this portal onto the visible spectrum for everyone?” She asks.

“Working on it now, ma’am,” 

“Meanwhile you three,” Miss Lethbridge-Stewart turns her attention to the teens, “need to come with me to visit Mr Stark.”

 

==> Observe Tony Stark

Tony Stark frowns over the velocity readings on the hologram in front of him, and to the left Banner mirrors his expression. “This ship is coming in way too fast,” he says. “We’ve got three quarters of an hour at most, I’d say.” 

“Make that half an hour,” Tony corrects. “They’ll fire as soon as they’re in range.” Now that the ship is closer he can see the weapons its armed with; they look serious, and beyond much technology he’s seen. Spiny rows of gun barrels ridge the hull of the ship, each looking like it’s packing enough firepower to wipe out a block or so at the very least.

Tony rubs the back of his neck and as he does he can feel that each individual hair on his head is starting to stand on end. The air tastes sharp, electrically charged, and he has a strong suspicion that if he touches the keyboard now he’ll be shocked with built-up electricity. Banner seems to be having the same trouble - he’s reflexively rubbing the stubble on his face, trying to disperse the static.

A loud crackle of static as the doors slide open and Tony turns to see Jade walk in, accompanied by two other kids, one ridiculously taller than her, one ridiculously shorter. The teen has developed a floating fuzz of charged hair strands in a dark halo around her head, and she tries to flatten it self-consciously, to no avail. “Hey Tony,” she says awkwardly. “Sorry for ditching you here. These are my friends, Dave and Rose.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Rose says, while Dave offers a casual “Sup.” Tony waves for a second before nudging his head back to gesture them over. 

“Check this out.” he says. “Ship velocity. I’d say we’ve got about half an hour here, so I’m thinking we need a strong offence.” He directs his gaze to Dave and Rose. “What kind of powers do you guys have?”

Rose responds quickly. “I have magic wands, and Dave can time travel.”

Tony actually asks her to repeat herself when he hears the second part. “Time travel,” Dave cuts in. “It’s my thing.”

“Holy shit,” the engineer mutters. “I feel like I’m in some kind of sci-fi movie. Hey Banner, did you hear that? Time travel.” 

Banner looks up from his work. “Do you get issues with paradoxes?” is his first question. Instantly, a second version of Dave appears next to him, hands hovering over a pair of - turntables?

“Not really,” the two Daves say. They high-five, and then the second Dave scratches a record and disappears.

Tony finds himself surprisingly incapable of speaking. He looks at Bruce. 

“I _so_ need to do tests on this kid.”

 

==> Observe Bruce Banner

This static is getting ridiculous. 

Dave, Rose, and Jade all now have halos of charged hair floating around them. Tony’s getting shocked every time he shifts his hands on his keyboard, and Bruce is facing a similar problem at his own desk. Uncomfortable UNIT scientists crackle in their pressed lab coats. On the screen, the portal’s now measuring six miles across. The red ship in the centre is slowly swallowing his view of the dimension behind it.

He pins a time to it. “Fifteen minutes,” he announces to the others in the room. “I’d suggest we get our weapons ready.”

The kids look at each other. “We’d better go,” Rose says. Bruce nods, and Tony waves them off. Electricity arcs between the sliding doors as they leave. Another minute and Tony stands up too.

“I’m gonna go suit up. Think you can hold down the fort here?”

Bruce nods again, his attention on the screen. The more he knows about the ship, the more damage the others can do.

 

==> Observe Director Fury

General Magumbo is a whirlwind of barked orders and hasty phone calls. She’s pulling in everything - airships, fighter jets, alien tech (Fury really needs to get intel on what these guys actually do), and even something called Torchwood which, when she spoke to their main operative, sounded pretty serious.

ETA, two hours.

He hopes they can hold out that long.

 

==> Observe Thor Odinson

Heimdall still isn’t responding. The chances of Asgardian reinforcements is practically nil. And he’s tried everything; yelling, yelling… even yelling. They really need a better system.

The Winchester brothers seem just as in the dark as he is. All they’ve been told is to _get ready for something big,_ which to the two Midgardians seems to have translated to _find as many guns as you can and strap them to your person._ They’re in the Stark Tower common room. The smell of unattended toast fills the air from when Dean announced he wanted lunch an hour ago, then promptly decided that in fact he wasn’t hungry.

They watch the static charges flare across the metal window frames and don’t speak.

 

==> Observe the Doctor

If he had the TARDIS, this would be so much easier. As it stands, it's back in Britain and he's stuck pacing a route around the negotiating tables while Magumbo and Fury delegate. Whatever species they’ve got incoming, he knows practically nothing about it.

At the call to prepare weapons goes out, he picks up his phone and calls Rose.

“Doctor, hey,” she says. “I’m down in the labs with Jane-Marie. What’s going on?”

“Rose, they’re preparing weapons. I want you out of here.”

“Hah, fat chance. I’m staying right where I am.”

“This isn’t debatable, Rose.”

“Well good luck finding me and forcing me onto a bus - if there even are any around at this point. This building has a hundred floors!”

He sighs. “Your mum’s gonna kill me.”

“She would’ve anyway on principal. Don’t worry about me, Doctor. Go do your thing.” She hangs up with a click.

The Doctor shoves his phone back in his pocket, frustrated, and returns to his pacing. “Notify me the second we can get a signal through. I want to talk to the Condesce.”

-

Five minutes later, and Magumbo’s handing him a communications device and a stern warning to “behave yourself, you’re representing the Earth.” He scoffs at that and flicks the power button. A moment of static, and a humanoid image stutters into view. 

The Condesce’s skin is an ashen grey. Her eyes are fierce, pupils slitted like a cat, irises a brilliant fuchsia. Wickedly sharp canines extend threateningly past her black lips. Her ears flare along the sides of her head like tattered fans, shredded on one side, holding her roiling black hair in place. A gold crown circles her head, behind which a pair of vibrant orange horns extends beyond the screen’s view. Scars litter her neck and jaw, the myriad of gold bands at her throat doing little to cover them up. Everything about her, to the Doctor, screams _predator. Threat._ This is the kind of being that was practically _made_ to hunt. The kind of being he would _never_ let a human get anywhere near to.

The kind of being the Time Lords used to keep in check.

He clears his throat, straightens his posture. “This is the Doctor, Gallifreyan Time Lord, speaking on behalf of the planet Earth. Your ship is not welcome in this quadrant. We request that you leave. Immediately.” He puts as much threat as he can into the tone.

The Condesce’s tattered ears twitch. “You guppies think you can order me around?” She chuckles; the laugh of someone who already knows they’ve won. “I’m takin’ this planet, an’ its minerals, an’ its people. Ain’t any-fin you can do ‘bout it.”

“We’re armed,” he warns her, “and we have allies in other systems. This is a Level Five planet; invasion on any scale is forbidden by the Shadow Proclamation. I will not hesitate to inform them of this blatant disrespect of their laws.” It’s an empty bluff, and he knows it, but at this point there’s not much else he can do to dissuade her.

“Shadow- wha? I don’t know no-fin about any Proclamation.” Well, there goes his argument. “Look, guppy, I ain’t in the mood for chit-chit. I got a planet to enslave.” She grins, shark teeth glinting. “Ta!”

The screen goes dead. He hands it back to Magumbo.

“We’ll be wanting those weapons as soon as-”

**_Boom._ **

“They’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, you guys!  
> I'm pretty sure either next chapter will be the last, or the one after it will. A huge thank you to everyone who's stuck with me through this so far. You're all the best!  
> To any newcomers: Welcome! You've come at a good time.  
> Kudos and comments are, as always, hugely appreciated. Want to contact me without commenting? I have two blogs; mystical-architect.tumblr.com, and moorehawke.tumblr.com, which I'm gearing up to move to in a few months. It's currently blank, though, so be aware.  
> See you all next chapter for the Big Showdown!  
> \- mysticalArchitect :)


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